Bring Me A Looking Glass Straight


…Only Child?
Reflecting only disappointment,
My mother’s?
I should right this mirror.

“How have I worn so many winters out
And know not now
What name to call myself?”
Enfleshed Obligation, or, 
Dropped Commitment?
Hardly names.
Sliver, shiver, shard:
Me, Myself, I.

Earliest memory 
He / She
Doorway frames 
Two angry fragments,
One for each I,
Daddy / Mommy.

In the high chair,
Whaling bootless fists on its tray,
Immobilized me repairs
To this shouting match
Between them
Not one happy moment
I can re-call my own.
So, what light to reflect
In my daughters’ eyes,
Telling them their story?

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