A Reflective Sheen
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I'm in a small café
nursing a hot coffee.
And, between steamy sips,
I gaze at a mirror.
There, reality's a
reflection; it's not real.
And, like caricatures,
flaws fall into focus.
I know; it's merely glass
with a reflective sheen.
And yet, I am transfixed,
watching time come and go.
My eyes are scrutinized,
as I stare at myself.
And it's fascinating,
guessing who will blink first.
Shifting shadows; provide
such entertainment free.
And voyeurs; stealthily
watch life slip by, unseen.
(Blank Verse)
7/10/2015
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015
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