>A few broken mirrors

>I have a few broken mirrors,
at the bottom of my pocket.
Pieces of glass,
that keep obstructing my past.
This nerve leads to it,
my past, like a wave frozen.

Tired feet, want to rest.
The stump over the cliff,
facing the sunset.
I lie down,
with a few broken mirrors,
at the bottom of my pocket.

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2 thoughts on “>A few broken mirrors

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