poem: mirror me, mirror mine

the Reflection looks
on the flattened lines of my lips
and the unwavering eyes
and unfolds a little more
strengthens some
in knowing i look back on It with
less than hatred. lesser, still, than love. a little beyond
stagnating repulsion.

behind my shuttered throat
between my barbed wire thighs
along the rocky, valleyed ribcage
there’s a rekindling.
sweet, and so alive
it is almost simpering
is my coarse and flaming
re-beginning.

t. bennett

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