By Ditz
Date: 22 February 2001
reflection
The day is new as the sun slowly rises on my windowpane. The clock clicks its "good morning" to me as I replay the events of the night. "I love you baby," and then the connection goes dead as I tell myself once again, "this will end, this will end!"
The time is noon and the clock whispers in my ear. I listen to it's "voice" as it repeats what I already know. He loves me. He loves the me he thinks I am. I softly cry into the night as the clock tells me at days end, You're a vapor, a mist. Just as a steam that rises to the coolness in order to regain it's solid form, I rise to the shadows of his mind to be whatever he thinks me. A thing of beauty? Not I. A mist over the sea then evaporated in the sun.
I hover in the coolness waiting for his call. The clock taunts me with its slow moving hands. I see the outline of my skin. The form takes shape as the skin begins to solidify once again. I'm a prisoner. A prisoner of his love and devotion. I love him! I love him! I see his face as he enters the room. He sees what he always sees. The beauty he fell in love with. The beauty that is a vapor in the sun.
He reaches out to me. My eyes gaze the reflection in the mirror. A porcelain doll held fast in his embrace. If he drops it I will break. I will break! The clock quietly returns to its melodious tune, as I return to my baby's lips. It's hands rush through in moments what took an eternity at suns rise. He leaves my embrace with his identity. An identity of truth. I leave his gaze to return to what I am, a vapor.
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