THE MIRROR
Placing my hands on the smooth edges I enter my own reflection
It presses back like fog with gossamer membranous wings.
My entire body burns; every nerve ending screams. The voice that
is my mind yells to go back before it’s too late. I am at the point
of paying no heed to warnings. The other side awaits. It swirls in
scarlet hues without feelings. Neither pain nor pleasure, just
simple existence. Here there is no harm no whiskey or smoke
to free a soul; peace. I stare back at the world, free. I am called back
to reality only shortly. I look from without my image and see the
man before me cry. I touch my face and it is also wet. I try to
remember but I can’t recall why. I press my hands against the
inside of the mirror. For a moment our eyes meet and I understand.
Then he is gone and I rest upon the hues of the prism free