I am entirely yours in this place of wood, porcelain and tiles. I know you, skin deep at least. At first you avoid me. Then later in steamy nudity you examine me critically, gravely.
You know I always speak the truth, but never in love. I can’t. It’s only ever the simple truth about you. The version of yourself you show others. Or the version you can’t help but face in the intimate moments when we are alone.
Yesterday it was your face drooping in sorrow. Today it’s the bruised look. Tomorrow there’ll be the determined smile as darkness looms at your back.
The truth is you’re here looking for a relationship with me that can’t ever happen. Here is where time and gravity reign. Go find a real mirror! Before the worms. Before the fire. Before it’s too late.
published 15 June 2016