in the face of tragedy,
innocence is almost aborted in the womb of Life.

furthermore, to keep this little piece of fragility--
this little bit of light that is left inside,

one being divides into two.

once arisen from the deepest of slumbers,

the face you see in the mirror
isn't quite the same one you saw
the night before.

puzzled, but too dazed to pose a question,

you continue onward

with your uncomfortable day.

when night falls,
your hands are around a neck,
squeezing, choking,
stealing away the last of the air inside someone's lungs.


in a flash, your eyes open.

there is a tightening in your hands--

but you are too tired to wonder why.

you arise from your sullen slumber,

and look in the mirror.






why are you smiling?