NaPoWriMo, Day 17 (belated)

Catch-up day!




Mirrors be damned.  You ran

your hands through your untamed hair

without fear of poison.  The wide, slitted eyes,

the teeth, they knew better, knew

they’d be swinging in the wind

without you.  It was good to be needed.

Besides, you knew yourself as a reflection

and had no need of a glass.

Men’s faces twisted into your likeness–

you ran a finger over the granite lines,

smoothed their brows, tested the edge

of their teeth.  They stayed warm

a long time.

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