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Mirrors forever hold their own mysteries

conspiring with light

birthing reflections

wreaking havoc in our vision

unleashing a sea of insecurities we’d rather live without

So with eyes closed, I trace the contours of my visage, memorizing every curve and blemish

and falling in love all over again, with my invisible unblemished self

untraceable, undocumented and unmarred by public opinion

my mirror is the soul that never grows old, and is without wrinkle

the realest reality ever

and I feel safe, secure, and loved

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