am I a spectator? it sure feels
as if my mind is watching my mind
which watches my thoughts
two mirrors, one facing the other unto infinite
infinite faces, hands, eyes, thoughts
one after the other, all freakishly similar
all paths down the same dimly lit street
all leaves on the same twisted poplar branch
I must choose one, and neglect the rest,
for I cannot exist infinitely;my house
contains only a single mirror
reflecting she who can think infinite thoughts,
but not live infinite lives
YOU ARE READING
poems vol. III
PoetryThe third in my series of poetry collections. Tumblr, @aslice-ofpoetry
