4.18.11 Mirror Maven

Barefoot in a whisper skirt
wooden beads blink
I've come through the doorway to hear
    to listen
        to think.

She looks like me
with golden eyes aglow
and I wonder
if perhaps
she's the me left long ago.

I smile
on the inside
placing words within her tune
but the time is not mine yet
to fill this empty room.

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