Reflection

that’s my reflection on the slick stone floor
not so far from the inside of the glass
barely a distance between us
barely the black
space
separates
and brings us back.

its curious.
its bending over to look at me.
its dim dumb mumbling lips repeat
I remember being small.
similar conversations transpired.
a triptych of mirrors
a fitting room from every angle.
I had crawled into a kaleidoscope,
just to say hello
to wave
and to wave back

just the same from every angle.

it’s a self-same expression
on every face
now and from every angle,
and on every surface,
the eyes are always
exactly the same