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| Did you reside inside the jar, your pride so well hidden within reflections, in shallow imitation, or were you more before you tore yourself breathless from the shelf? I blink in infinite images yet, still you will not emerge into the chill of the bell, the lack of breath, your death simply made everything worse Sadly, I lose myself in vacuum A smooth glass face stares silently into icy curves as I listen to the frozen edge for whispered verse Now I wonder, "Is that me in those sad, backward distortions, molding myself to the curves of your strange glass enclosure, or just a faint illusion of your verse?" |
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