Relationship of Mirrors

A boiling pot by fire meets a cold wandering breeze

It was not the way He looked at her, no not this time 

the breeze found the atmosphere too light, itself too heavy, and sometimes lost flight, 

collapsed into rocks

was the way her trail of fever lit gold flowers aflame deep deep in his eyes

pot of clay withstanding its self enemy, how oh she sometimes wished to swallow her water nd 

melt down to the embers 

when their eyes met was the way he saw her for 

one moment
one moment eternal

still

full of his swirling breathe, no longer hiccuping

she housed she warmed the heavy breeze, he soothed he dried the perspiring swells. forever 

this intimacy was.

Until one day his eyes dimmed upon her, when what was intimacy was just another intimacy apparently only hers and
not his

Mirrors reflected one another crashing and shattering to the floor like two domino lines facing 

and remaining mysterious, for none knows the breaking of his reflecting gaze, 

not even he,
but worst of all, not
She.