We are mirrors 
simply reflecting back 
what is before 
for no one 
is really interested 
in ever peeking 
around back to 
see who’s this 
curious glass hiding 

A knock
never answered 
a call
never heard 
a text
once overlooked 
these things 
I miss 
but what 
I don’t 
are yours

I’d thought 
silly now
knowing this 
that that
would ever
and whatever 
it was 
really isn’t 
and this 
is that
isn’t true 

It’s this time 
time before coffee 
when my mind
is a cistern 
filled with leaves 
and sticks and 
remnants of some 
other time of
fog and low
hanging clouds that 
hide what’s there 
of chill that 
coats and covers 
and all buts 
and of silence 
the lonely kind 
that begs bears
and brings this 
why oh why 

Life it seems 
becomes a series 
of separate pictures 
be it album 
or phone or 
mind just simple 
quiet clicks looped
together with song
no melodies though 
just the beat
of the heart 
as it breaks