She’s but an
image portrayed and changed.
A chameleon, a mounted mirror. No
corners, no edges, continuous. Spontaneity
and confusion formed by suds. She can be
emptiness, a reflection of A white tiled wall.
Not a perfect reflection, spotted, wet.
Silent and loud. Subtle and mocking.
The mirror and the woman, their mere reflections are different
no more.
The Elevator Groupie
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