and no bare face. it is unreal reality
in this room of mirrors, your ease is
magnified. look how you triple, quadruple,
how the light plays with your eyes.
it’s four a.m. and you wonder where you
are—how long it will take for the sun
to rise, how long the sun has held
you in its grasp. it drips from the
ceiling, the smell of wet grass, everything
is chopped, diced, served to you.
where is your face if not in the mirror?
where are you if not in a room? the flowers
are dying—it is unreal reality.
Jack He is a high school writer residing in Miami, Florida. His work has been nationally recognized by the Scholastic Art & Writing Awards.