EVERYTHING IS A MIRROR

A MIRROR SHE'S NEVER DARED TO LOOK INTO

A MIRROR SHE'S NEVER LOOKED INTO

NOT THREE WISHES, JUST ONE

IF IT COULD BE LEFT ALONE FOR A WHILE, IT WOULD HEAL

AT 3:27 AM SHE WILL WAKE UP WITH THE READING LIGHT STILL ON AND HER BOOK FALLEN TO THE FLOOR BY THE BED

SOONER OR LATER SHE TOO WILL RUN OUT OF LUCK

EVERYBODY GETS A LITTLE LOST SOMETIMES

WHENEVER SHE FORGETS TO CLOSE THAT WINDOW BEFORE GOING TO SLEEP

NUMB NUMBER

RAINDROPS FEELING UNNATURALLY WARM ON HER BARE SKIN

A SILENT SCREAM, ALMOST AUDIBLE, COMING FROM UNDERNEATH HER SKIN

WHOEVER SHE WAS GOING TO LOVE HAD TO BE DIFFERENT

WHERE IS BABYLON TODAY?

MAYBE SHE WOULDN'T HAVE LIKED IT ANYWAY

IT WAS ONLY THE WIND, NOT SOMEBODY CARESSING HER BACK

A NUMBER SHE'S NEVER CALLED

SHE WAS SITTING ON A SWING IN THE DESERTED PLAYGROUND STARING INTO THE SUNSET

READ BUT NOT REPLIED TO

SUMMER NIGHTS ARE TOO SHORT

THE SCRAPBOOK SHE COPIED ALL OF THOSE TEXT MESSAGES INTO

WORN BY A TALK SHOW HOST ON TV

TO THE POINT WHERE SHE ALMOST FELT LIKE SHE WAS TOO CLOSE TO THE STAGE

SHE DIDN'T MIND WAITING A BIT LONGER

WHICH, IN FACT, WASN'T NEW AT ALL

SHE PUT EVERYTHING AWAY IN SILENCE

ONLY ONE

LIKE THE SMELL OF SUNSCREEN IN FEBRUARY