Mirror Rorrim
Hanging on her every words
are you really losing grip
and dizzy head spinning spiral out?
seeing not who is there
but a watery reflection,
already bathing your wounds
in an ocean of self-regret,
melancholy indigo blue
vast, wide, and consuming you
morsel by morsel.
Do you even know her name?
Copyright © Jesse Jones | Year Posted 2007
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