by Lizardin Bain

Facing the music

It’s hard to accept.

It isn’t my strongest suit

to watch the imperfection glaring

from the other side of the mirror,

but it does make it clearer,

even, though, I prefer to be blind

It’s starring, and it is glaring

Thus, I yield and I notice

begrudgingly kneeling

and spinning around to fix

the unfixable.

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