Self-destruction of the mirror
The things you hold dear
Dinner for one
Ego
Salvation is here
For the year of the snake
Holds a spot in its place
For these creatures
Eyes
Make up most of their face
The creatures disposed across
Thursday’s bathroom floor
Sick of December's lifts and lies
The months have been used twice a week
As the mirror gets a crack
Because part of us died

For all who have loved
And
For all who have lost
I have felt neither
So who is at loss?
The ones who have had
And so abruptly fake
Or the one who has nothing
But his soul to take