I watch her stare through the glass,
only, it’s not her physical presence
that draws my attention,
it’s her reflection, so peaceful
in comparison to her anxious frame.
I wonder what your reflection
would say about you. Is it nervous,
jubilant, or perhaps a little melancholy?
My reflection always seems sad —
dark circles amplified
under fluorescent lights,
the lines of my face drawn without care.
If we only saw reflections,
would that make it easier
to have compassion for strangers?
I would see your truth,
and theirs and theirs and theirs.
What a beautiful place
the world would be,
still fractured,
but oh so much clearer.
So It Goes 