Who am I?
Sometimes I forget…

A look in the mirror
Returns a pair of
Frosted eyes.

It seems, in those,
My true self lies.

They speak volumes,
Flicker, flutter:
Cryptic spies.

Can anyone truly
Know their depth,
The way I do–?

The full scope?
The whole spectrum
Of my Being?

My life fragments?
My spiritual convection?
My deepest, darkest secrets?

Perhaps this is the closest thing…
A poem:
Symbolic tomb
Of a lost, forgotten moment.

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