Looking at my reflection, my vertical panel of teeth not yet grown glistened at my only friend. Nothing stood there. My knowledge of the canyon and its nightmares opening below me does not glimpse so easily from my gaze. I sit as if on a Windsor chair brightened by the faux sunlight, scrambling to speak but all that came were gutturals and half knowing smiles. I lingered at the ledge of my crib, spying the unknowable I would colonize one day as the pale window moonlighted as my heaven. I gazed through the mirror, unaware that its reflection was not of another. Welling from within, I did not fear the mirror facing itself. My face, within a face, within a face. I always knew what was hidden behind the closet half opened by its reflection before my lids closed, unhinged by the soft side of my pillow.
*Here's a rewrite of a previous draft. I still might need help with the framing.
This an interesting capture of a simple moment, looking into the mirror. I like the way you play with basic setting as might be seen in a mirror, and expand it into nightmares, canyons, and heaven.
ReplyDeleteI don't understand if the speaker is looking to speak to her/ himself and if so, what would she/he say? Why is she/he "scrambling to speak?" If its a baby with these intelligent thoughts what would it try to say?