There were only two mirrors in which she could see herself.
She could look in the pools in Rome and see no reflection.
The Baths in England offered her no solace.
The Hall of Mirrors in Versailles would only torture her soul.
Her sight was blinded from her potential,
her heart caught mystified, transfixed on a cure.
Soft circles, almost ovals, with black and white finishings,
haunted her memory as she traveled the world.
It was only in the oceans of Greece,
when she could see the sky in her hands,
as they filled with the translucent puddles of Gods,
that she let herself remember his eyes
and the love she once saw in them.