Page 46 - Litterateur March 2021
P. 46

Looking Glass


































                                         After the rain,       I should climb into, but I can

                I hear the earth quake                         smell the sky; it is the same

                in my heart, look outside                      gray, and the taste of

                the window from a breakfast                    sadness

                café and see a rift in the skin                lingers in the watery air.

                of concrete, an opening                                                             I shake

                to another world                               my head, hear the rattle

                                               in another      of music color uncertainty,

                                                  universe     but the clef, hard as iron,

                reflecting into mine. I feel                   shimmers through the noise

                the words leak through                         in my chest. And I wonder

                touching my face. The                          if Alice ever found what she

                scaffold                                       was looking for. I simply

                in the mirror of that world                                               take another

                translates itself into a smile                                             sip of coffee.
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