I
am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions. Whatever
I see I swallow immediately Just
as it is, unmisted by love or dislike. I
am not cruel, only truthful— The
eye of a little god, four-cornered. Most
of the time I meditate on the opposite wall. It
is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long I
think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers. Faces
and darkness separate us over and over. Now
I am a lake. A woman bends over me, Searching
my reaches for what she really is. Then
she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon. I
see her back, and reflect it faithfully. She
rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands. I
am important to her. She comes and goes. Each
morning it is her face that replaces the darkness. In
me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish. |
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