These Mirrors aren't so old. They beckon me to hang them up

so I can watch them reciprocate the favor.

"Such an ugly fool."
They whisper as they tie the rope I handed them.

Nevermore will these allusions stay to haunt.

Grasping at the thought of warmth. If only I could see where my shell lay; cold, misfortunate like the tide

closes in the North; I wish not once for nothing more.

*Slipping slowly into a gorge