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by Jane Lang

I looked over her shoulder, into the mirror
wondered what she saw…let me tell you
what I see: prisms, sharply etched into her
reflection, this chosen life; a silk dressing
gown hanging off the back of an open door
waiting for the touch of her skin to
bring it to life

I see old pain, sorrow, loss, acceptance
as she moves purposefully forward behind
those lightly-tinted glasses which hide a
myriad of fears—as well I see warmth,
laughter, joy, exploration of new love
in this new now

Hands clasped as if in prayer, bracelets on
her arms, jewelry of preference, a subtle aura
surrounds this woman of many talents waiting
for her lover, and seen in the mirror's
reflection: prisms of light, splashes of bright
up-swept colors, hopes, dreams—these truths
are mine, I am…She

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