Mirror, o mirror
Hung high on the wall
Who is the most beautiful maiden
Of them all
The shapes contort and change
Vibrate and haze
The lips peak through the mists of mystery
And smirk and simmer like lemonade and raspberries
Her right-hand lay softly on her left shoulder
Elegant and graceful like the mare amongst the wilds
Her luscious and vibrant locks fall along her chest
The colors of fall rushing forth like the final flood
As her eyes pierce the veils of obscurity and doubt
So too does their vibrant blues and yellows
As the sun is backed by the beautiful blues, ocean hues
A silhouette of a stranger peers forth from the mirror
But my mirror is not magic.
ESTÁ A LER
Strawberries are a Summertime Fruit
PoesiaThis book is, simply put, an amalgam of original poetry with topics covering sex, death, wishful thinking, bigotry, revolution, and self acceptance. This writing has mostly been the details of my adventures as a non-binary queer kid who has too much...
