your mirrors

the mirrors know more than me

you told me

sometimes trembling

you talk to them unblemished

and they listen

 

the mirrors are perfectly

receptive you said

clean surfaced, unstained

no chinks in their armour

of understanding

 

the mirrors are never too deep

or judicious

I thought, on reflection

I could not compete

in the shallowness stakes

 

the mirrors don't spit in frustration

you whispered

across their silver backs

in exemplary symapthy

at the changing of the guard

 

the mirrors don't love you

like I do

I said.