You steal the light from the room, you peel the face
off the moon, you think you know reciprocity. We dance
to color the night, we spur the angels to flight, we descend
at high velocity. Don’t pretend that you don’t know me, I won’t
deny that you owe me, I know the mirror’s not free. You swerve
avoiding the damage, I stop the blood with a bandage, I tell
my reflection you’re me.
© Tina Zabielski 2011-2019