Mirror

The mirror tells no lie.
The mirror walks backwards
cooled
in the shade of my spilling shadow.
On every bend, crossroad, crossing
It upholds its promise-
to never shy from itself.
No binge can blur its glare,
it is clear and clean
as polished brass.
It does not resemble me,
does not hold my full head of hair,
baby crow feet eyes,
awkward spring-bulb of a nose.
It is me if my face were
a melted candle, if my body
was that of a dolls, gutted of its stuffing
then re-stitched.
On cold mornings
the mirror finds its tongue
rasping words
when I find none.
It tells me
" I am your Father
look at your footprints
how closely they match my own"

heather wilkins
a mirror does not lie, it tells all. Sometimes too much. nice write.

LightH2O
Nice write...mirrors can be scary at night.

Susan Jarvis
A haunting and stunning write that makes me want to cover my mirror with a sheet... that's the power of your poetry! :)

Fay Slimm
An amazing write Vince on the aspects of mirrored images - - the last phrase is filled with food for thought. We see ourselves not as the mirror does.

Abhinav Baruah
Nice reflection!