Mirror, Mirror on the wall, are Libras the “fairest” of them all?

Your mixed messages
I’m sitting still trying to untie,
with the ribbons when you once said
‘your skin stops me from getting closer’,
now knotted. You forgot you tied them
so neatly around me.

The urgency of your need to discover Me
was left behind one morning
when summer sun left storm-clouds;
brewed cups of pain-tea, which you made
but never even drank with me.

- The - slivers - and – shards – of - the – past -

from reflections of us
still cut my feet, when I walk too far into yesterday
and remember why it was
the mirror fell.
I sit in the ocean, and swim, so far away
It’s hard not to dwell on
where my one safe land was.
Sometime
I’ll build my own lighthouse
so I’ll not need you to steer me away from the rocks.
I’m reaching another shore.

I always wear red. I was the lifeguard.
You think you saved me.
I think we did a good job at rescuing each other.
I’m piecing together our mirror again.
It may take a while.
I’ll leave it out to dry under the Full Moon
And then cast it into the ocean.
Tied with loose new ribbons.
Dipped in inks of raspberry ripple.

You’re whispering to me, now, tonight.
but I don’t hear
anymore.

It’s hard when the waves make more sense
and their crashing serenade against this shore
is hypnotic.
The Universe holds it
now.
If you find a shard of our reflection
send it to me.
I need sometime, to piece it all together.
Or at least keep it in your box
With three pictures,
Two silver rings
and our one
last
. breath