The Mirror

The Mirror

The Mirror

Leave leave me to do it she says
and when she leans down
when she goes to drown her face gently
in the coarse hair
in the dark marbled tangle
over skin so very pale
she sees the mirror which is to say she sees in the mirror
a blonde head-no, golden
hair softly gathered
in a languid bun as if
it were the face the neck the head
of some delicate ballerina.