IN THE ROOM OF MIRRORS
eyes over crystal
that a great aunt
might have polished
reflected in a
hall mirror,
a reflection of a
reflection. Tin
mirrors, compacts,
lips in multiples,
multiples of
multiples a
whole Niagara of
repetitions,
an un-graspable
number of echoed
noses and eyes,
infinity of lashes,
gloss framed in
gold, in silver
as hard to grasp
as square roots of
miles to planets
outside this
solar system. Only
the hand touching
hair of the
twin going
triplets,
quadruplets,
their nova
tangible as
apricot skin