I looked at the mirror so much that I stopped recognizing myself.
The reflection of the reflection
locked in my eyes,
infinite sets.
Panic threatens
by the thousandths of a second.
If I lose control,
I might crawl away.
I suspect
the watchful step
of a spy
of myself.
I usually tame a golden beast;
its dark destiny rings out in unison.
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Author:
Damaso (
Online)
- Published: May 29th, 2025 09:39
- Comment from author about the poem: Every now and then they cross between the seams of the cosmos.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
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