early moring at the mirror i'm
dreaming look i'm going but
breathless swivel round and
suddenly the air is thin you
bend into my ear to whisper
why can't i come round i'll
winkle you out the mirror
splinters light bends back i
see i'm only flailing not
going at all a blurring spiral
on an axis where you see the
face mine at every bend on
every label say i'm your you
it's going to hurt you jerking
round to spit your rage out
through the foam and will i round
on gleaming you i'm sure you
think i'm going to blithely be for
you the circling moon and never
bend this time to whirl
away