Doesn't poetry save lives?

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Stranger in the mirror ~

A stranger stays in my room with me. 
I look in the mirror and talk with him. 
He is not always likeable,
but we often look out into the sea together,
thinking of what conjoins us
and the wonder of that:
nothing is ever what it seems. 

I am style, he is substance,
I'm decent, he is corrupt. 
And in that divide lies the answer 
of why we coexist.

It's easy to say "Opposites attract",
it's harder to understand that 
opposites desire:
what they want is much stronger -
they crave,
they ache,
they covet,
they hunger. 

And even as they change, 
they battle with themselves. 

And when I look again in the mirror,
to finally see someone familiar,
I see 
a new stranger.

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