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Magic Mirror


tiredofvampires

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MAGIC MIRROR

 

 

Just like you

the moon wakes me

from disturbed somnolence.

Smudged out of a dream,

at what hour I can’t guess,

I sense the upside-down glow

just beyond my curtains.

Climbing upwards through

the motions, I pull aside

our shabby separation,

and there, bare in the window

as a lone carved jewel

on the breastbone of night,

it holds a soft field of amber

captive.

It’s secret power is its rising

without announcement,

its visitation clandestine,

half-masked and obscure

in the tavern of abandoned hours

when all things have ceased clamoring.

 

But this waning face awakens

to its own presense,

unafraid to shine alone with

stars standing back;

it’s underside,

a teardrop

about to fall any moment,

suspended

as a magic mirror

of light that does not exist

here.

 

Just like you

farther than the fulcrum of earth,

risen only for a brief time,

from the other side of space,

this stillness cries out to me.

Nothing is as hushed

as the edge

of the world

hovering between

two dreams.

I let the curtain fall

and I fall, too,

back into not knowing.

 

Just like you

a ticking taps at the

corners of consciousness,

tells me something

has just happened

I’ll never sleep through again.

That same pristine spot draws my

eyes open, they grope once more.

But this time,

just like you,

it has disappeared

and left a vacant dark.

This time,

no more,

too late,

as the last train departed, you’ve

stolen away.

Our low-hanging zenith together

has passed.

You’ve gone along.

The horizon has claimed you somewhere,

when I was under.

Though a strange empty brilliance

holds you still, phosphorescing.

 

Thank you for waking me

to say

goodbye.

 

And just like you,

the dawn must be on its way;

but I don’t know

what to do with it

or how to start.

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