findingtimetowrite

Thinking, writing, thinking about writing…

No Reflection

She had a way with mirrors

She tamed them with one look.

No periwinkled gape emerging, unplanned, confusing,

No fairytale abasement of princess lost and found.

She knew the score, the path, and scaling

Was her day job, to step on meek cadavers, to pursue, victorious.

Each face thought out,

Lip drawn in cupid perfection

With dervish undertones.

Eyes framed with agate offerings,

The brow? A work of art, unfurrowed and unhurried.

Regrets are someone else’s,

A sleight of mind, eclipse of hands,

And back we are, unwrinkled,

To smooth-held opinions and shifting granular sands.

Meanwhile, the portrait in the attic

Waxed crueller by the year.

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10 thoughts on “No Reflection

  1. Sisyphus47 on said:

    An extraordinary vision… and of course her reality is… in the attic: superb! In fact, flawless :-)

    • Thanks, Honore! I really appreciate that. I am thinking of submitting this for a publication here at the Geneva Writers’ Group – and the theme this year is ‘Reflection’. But I think it needs some editing.

  2. Sisyphus47 on said:

    Reblogged this on Of Glass & Paper and commented:
    An extraordinary vision… and of course her reality is… in the attic: superb! In fact, flawless

  3. Fab ~ really like ‘… to step on meek cadavers …’ ~ utterly spellbinding

  4. Marina Sofia – This is marvellous! Chilling too…

  5. This makes me feel sorry for her. It makes me think she’s lonely. She’s alone in reality.

  6. The first two line are excellent – draws the reader right in.

  7. Love this :) Well done!

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