In the mirror
its a halo
in the real world
a crown of thorns
a burden
you wouldn't
burden yourself
with if you
had but known.
Yet your voice
can ring out
to those that hear it.
the way dogs
hear the subtle
approach of the
shaking of the earth
and the fire
and the blood
and the ash
smeared on
the blackened hearth.
its dark
and languid
and turning to
gold with age
page after page
after paige.
yeah yeah, I know...I got up to go the bathroom and the golden reflection of a headlight on the side of the house caught my eye turning the corridor in between the apartment buildings in a flash to an Aztec city of gold.
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