The Mirror

Madeline Penn

In the indigo night
Old wounds burst open
When the bed begins to broil the past,
Becoming a lingering lover
The clock ticks, clock ticks
And beats the dream black and blue
Beating on the wall
Beating on the wall for the light-line
Intertwined in fibers of moonlight
Flashing silverfish smeel the scent
And ascend on a root
Finally you soften to a pond

Swirling slowly,
You look at yourself
Yes, you are looking at yourself

The full-lenght mirror manipulates love
The wallpaper's printed pattern, blurry
Feigning innocence

Finding itself firmly framed
Watching yourself wither petal by petal
No way out, no way to escape

Even if you leapt over walls
There are days blocking you from behind
That you cannont leap over

Women don't need philosophy
Women can wave off moonmarks
Just as dogs wave off water

Shut the weight of the drapes  
Misty tongue of morning licks the window glass

Return to the valley of the pillow
Like loose film, negatives exposed

The walnut tree beneath the window shivers
As if touched by a hand of ice