although I will avoid reflected light
turning from my mirror again, again
because I know I’m headed for midnight;
a little rest and a little more pain.
A heart that flows a river’s what I see;
(my tiny life is dropping down the drain)
- not knowing who I am or who I’ll be -
although my son loves mirrors like a Star,
sees himself as Elvis, Danny, he
adores his own reflection, avatar;
knows that power’s rising to a height
with alchemy of joy - and jollity -
polishing the mirror, burning bright,
although I will avoid reflected light.