As tall as any hope can stand, I stand. But there is no reflection in any mirror that I can cast that doesn’t disappear when the lights of appreciation go out, and I am left in a bed breathing alone.
I mix metaphors – call me a bad poet, so be it. But that is the way it is; me wanting to be tall in the light, admired – until the final sigh of escaping breath leaves me at night.
Before I sleep, I reflect on the duties of my day and wonder where did I go. Was I the me I wanted to be…?
A torrent of words, a positive exasperation of expressions, reasons gathered into tidy lists and still a wordpress cat or any picture of a nude woman captures more attention than a man standing tall in front of a “timeless mirror” asking questions…
When I was young I went into a room and stood between two mirrors, each on opposite walls and when I looked into one, I could see into the forever of the other – and when I turned and looked into the other, I could see into its forever as well. Every mirror has its own version of forever. This is quantum, the nature of time – my time here; standing tall with you.