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Windows and Mirrors.

Look in their eyes:
worlds within, without
collide, boundaries betwixt
them and I dissolving,
bleeding, mixing again.

Erect the walls, summon
callous, thicken skin.
It’s like swimming in a sea
of erratic energy, so alive
and blind, draining,
charging, pushing, tugging
at me, inspiring
my resonation, infecting me.

Run home, bolt the door,
sit, smoke,
bathe in silence.

Reflect in safety.

Am I seeing
into them by extending
my light, mingling, or spying
reflections of my own
mind, unrecognized,
through their eyes?

I must know if the world
has become my hall of mirrors;
do I know myself sufficiently
to eliminate that possibility?


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