No Mirrors
September 1st 2010 01:25
Once, there were no mirrors,
a woman's vanity only to be seen
in small pieces of polished silver, or stone.
On rippling water,
or happenchance surface.
Her locks combed by fingers alone
and checked not by her eyes,
were seen by men as they were.
The features of her face
and glow of her jewel eyes
could be echoed by man, or sister,
but never confirmed by her own gaze.
Times shifts and worlds change.
The sick scent of her unguents and perfumes
now thicken the air,
as hours are spent before empty glass,
she checks and reaffirms
the marks of her beauty,
pats all strands down into submission,
she goes out in confidence
which is her folly
because it all is as it was
when there were no mirrors.
a woman's vanity only to be seen
in small pieces of polished silver, or stone.
On rippling water,
or happenchance surface.
Her locks combed by fingers alone
and checked not by her eyes,
were seen by men as they were.
The features of her face
and glow of her jewel eyes
could be echoed by man, or sister,
but never confirmed by her own gaze.
Times shifts and worlds change.
The sick scent of her unguents and perfumes
now thicken the air,
as hours are spent before empty glass,
she checks and reaffirms
the marks of her beauty,
pats all strands down into submission,
she goes out in confidence
which is her folly
because it all is as it was
when there were no mirrors.
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