Over the mirror
for your
self-condescension,
your universe
has been inflating
your secrets.
In your reflection,
you are knotted,
holding back a life
out of fear
of what follows
after a second.
Simplicity
is your drawback,
while a kind gesture
compels you
to rethink
what you failed
to bring.
Your imagination
travels everywhere
to find enemies
in shadows
that never existed
before you made them
from red clay.
Your wounds
are your answers
to keep running
your mouth
down a cave,
echoing your lies,
encouraging
your retreat.
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