I told the man in the mirror to change his mind
which after consideration he of course did
but he lied about it to himself
so I see no change in his reflection in me
absolutely no difference in the glass eye
I use to look inside
and the window I use to look outside of who I am
the mountain range is still on the horizon
the ocean is vast and deep
love is alien and unheard of
many other things that confuse my landscape
I buried mirror face in my iron hands
hoping to break it into tears
it didn’t work
no emotions were drawn or bled now as ever before
and what would I do with so much drama
on my path anyway
or him for that matter?
besides, I already know all his lies about his latest death and about seeing synagogues in a new light
as far as me
I am slowly getting used to the sturdy composure of an old age
alien monolith I have become
it feels good to know
I possess the patience to remain silent
the problem being
I don’t recall which silence I used to brace that new mind of his