This antique mirror boosts no confidence. Concave

reveals its magic tricks with an incurvate

red surface. Some human hair



blending braids are there to fancify your boxers, your removable

metallic silver suspenders underwear and

her red bra underwire slips. It is a new style.



I feel anguish, when I touch the pull locks. Her picture

of the antique statue is hidden between all those things. She



enters the mirror to kiss you every time you look at it. Like jelly candies



are her lipsticks on that silver, but

they have different taste. For me,

they look like isoquants, or indifference curves. I want

to leave you. What do you think?



The water that drips from the mirror, when I wash it, is like crimsonblood. Scary



optical illusions split the reality into two variants through my woe,

and create a much looser and less direct relationship

between us than ever. You live for

your comfort and versatility. You cannot change it.