previous :: index :: next

Listen to the murmur
of times flying
past your thoughts.

While at it,
your apron,
cast it's faint memory
on the wrinkles
you tried
to camouflage.

Make up, make up,
when, someday you wake up
and never notice
a change from yesterday
and keep
a smothering dripping grip
from clinging
to your innocently
worn out skull.

Face it!

The face you put on
and washed away,
alone,
last night,
is the same,
when you surrender
to your iris
and it's reflection does not lie.

The view you stole
every morning
at each glance,
willing whole hearted,
out of your eager self
to be the same,
out of your eager self directed ego,
while you chose to be another you.

You trusted your ageless mirror,
even though you
closed your eyes,
to line up your shadow,
with your fading eye lash,
and dream about
days younger you
could not stand.

In your bathroom,
saggy nipples,
droopy and proud,
that time
can never feed,
nor can you ever give
life to another jackal
like the one
you saw last night.
Could it be your grandson?
Or maybe another
child mistaking you
for their grandmother.

Can you think
of giving
life to a new born child,
other than trying
to remember
where you hid
your last candy bar,
the one you intend to
smother before
your bed time?

Your living room,
old and dark,
and quiet and deserted,
and your closet,
full of memories,
younger than
than cob web's last meal.

You made sure
you were not the same person
who checked in moments before,
in your bath robe,
choking, grinning, farting,
checking if your heart
has any beats left in it.

You stretched your wrinkles
and wondered what the surgeons
would do
if you pay them a lump sum
to simply make them disappear
with wise magic.

Ephemeral being,
you grew up resenting
things younger
and tolerating things older
and did not care,
for they somehow
always told truth
about you and you and I,
and I alike,
and outlasted you
and you and I,
and I alike.

With every glance
an iron cage builds rust
around your beautiful heart,
making it see life
through another beat,
and another mirror.

Like today and tomorrow
maybe here and now,
and how you felt today,
the glimpse of your
shadow is fresher
and closer and a reef away
when you'd come
to your senseless
self admiration.

What seems to be eternity
and merely gets closer to understanding life,
is a natural thought,
and a genuine smile.

Uncertainty,
between there and now,
a serene glance
inside beats sadness
with a passionate kiss.

The reflection
continues to set apart
what we fail to
see in ourselves,
and what we try
to see in others,
who happen
to use the same mirror.


Said Leghlid, 2003.

previous :: index :: next