've left me captive, the other side of a mirror
indented bitterness
no longer taste the sound of your beauty and bread
your loving silence.
Prisoner in this glass, I look drunk
your mouth water and freshness;
hit only to suffer the bite of a memory
uninhabited salt.
Why should I always be a prisoner sentenced to
reflexes and appearance,
without wetting your image this way?
I carved an angel fierce light
draw your eyes in my presence and so manche
your life with my death.
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