With rainbow ease I
sew my image on the mirror.
I have not blinked in days,
and now I see through
clouds to the dancing dead
shimmering in copper.
When I was born
(between songs)
my self was already old
and imprinted in glass.
When my face begins to crack
the glass will implode.
My self was born some time
between yesterday and
happily never after.
I need mirrors to make me remember
the things I once had memorized,
the monotheistic candle wicks
I must light,
To guide the leopard home
through the silo of night.
Self so stiff and soft,
stitched ad infinitum
in eternity.
Miniature Moon 