Portrait

Bright mirror,
your eye can't see more than reflected.
Judgment fits uneasily upon you,
at once you reveal too much
and less than you know.

Through your lens afflictions of time,
wrinkled, bulgy, sunken -
fleshy evidence of life's push and pull
as days slip into musing peeks
upon your witnessing portrait.

Though we appear as one,
though as one we glance,
echoes are your only return.
May we fuse and die as one,
- I in you and you in me -
and beautifully dance on broken glass.