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May 2012
I feel the glass cool and sleek
as my arm glances against it.
I peer into it, and see a face
that moves with me -
...and so I see it is myself.
Feeling strange, I look deeply,
as if to shake the spell.
I wonder, if I could break the shape of the glass,
would it reveal a self I know much better?
What do I see?
Nothing.
Not happiness, not sadness-
love nor hate.
There is a balefulness,
not a life at all.
This terrifying image
refuses to reflect the fear I feel.
In amber candlelight I'm caught.
If I move beyond the confines of the glass
Will I still be here?
Deborah Sweetsilverbird Birch
Written by
Deborah Sweetsilverbird Birch  67/F/Vancouver
(67/F/Vancouver)   
748
   Helios Rietberg, --- and Ahmad Cox
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