he has two faces:  
one faces me and the other faces the mirror
wrapped in a veneer of soft skin
across a chasm of buried memory and the pacific ocean
that i cannot yet traverse

hidden behind a veil of broken glass
transparent enough to let some light in yet opaque at the same time

the shards pierce my fingers
blood spills in the absence of control
and freezes with
a knowing distance that dances around the wrath of time

how do i cross the breach?
i wait
for the turn of time
for the unleashing of emotion
for the healing that must happen

then and only then can i pour the resinized love i have into the cracks
and have it solidify into something permanent