past reflection

the mirror is a mirror, nothing more
until, one day, it is a door
beyond the mirror stage of love
what antiques will I find in those dusty little rooms?
what small notes and messages will I find left behind?
luvrs quarrels n spits n spats
n soft words like “i’m here b”
i’m here

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: