Frogs and Orchids (W.I.P.)

They,
or it,
or I

took me to the mirror
(in the corner of a room filled with only the darkest of dark matter),
stood me up against myself and said,

…“Now can you see clearer?”…

Inside were banks
tiptoeing rivers,
their currents still but strong.

She wasn’t walking,
wasn’t swimming,
yet somehow she moved along.

Carried by a cord
of frogs and orchids
to the sun

that spun to warm the rivers’ banks
and for her
that cord had spun.

…“Did you know our stars absorb all the knowledge of every heart that ever beat,
every wing that ever billowed with its heat, and every woman who’d ever
ever ever had a thought while looking in the mirror where, betwixt her own eyes,
she did meet her maker?”…

It gave it to her,
knowing one day she’d find its use
in that mirror;

knowing one day
that she’d know
to never think she knew a thing.

She,
them,
it, or I

breathe in what we know and out what we think.

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