Listen!
WRITING ON A MIRROR my pen is red it sinks into my hand I skate it across the runic glass the words see themselves backward they come alive in the present with all their remembered life they strut nakedly they look at each other and the mirror flames with desire I can't stop writing now I am telling all the things I meant to keep secret relief is pumping through my fingers and I shape the letters with painful care they are new no one has ever seen them they would be unreadable but they speak all at once in a babble of reflection
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