A glass for looking

What do we look for
in the looking glass?
A memory of yesterday?
The weight of today?
A question yet unanswered?
Or is it simple vanity,
an analysis of the map of us,
the fractures that define us?
I’ve seen that face
more than any other,
and yet we’ve never
truly met.
Hi, I’m me.
Glad you could make it.

(dtn)

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