12/03/2025
The Mirror’s Embrace
I stand before the silver glass,
a shifting face, a fractured past.
One side bathed in golden light,
the other swallowed by the night.
Dark hands reach from shadow’s deep,
whispers haunt the dreams I keep.
Yet laughter hums beneath my skin,
a fire bright that pulls within.
Two selves, divided, yet the same,
one in sorrow, one in flame.
I press my palm against the pane,
the cold, the warmth—a mirrored frame.
Oh, let me not in fear recoil,
but thread my light into the soil.
For roots grow strong in blackened earth,
and even grief can birth new mirth.
So let me dance where night and day
entwine in soft, kaleidoscopic sway.
No longer halves, but something whole—
a mirror’s heart, a blended soul.
📸 by Gerard Hol
