Saturday, January 31, 2009

Tell Me: A Saturday Poem










Tell Me

Turned away, my lover murmurred,
I actually think that others often see us
more clearly than we see ourselves.

Into her neck I agreed.
How can any of us do otherwise?

A story is a re-telling, every word a reflection
of something other. Little good it did Narcissus
to stare and stare. And stare.

My lifetime, I wonder, and have wondered
how it shall end. Holding I am lovely!
to a mirror.

!ylevol ma I
Better that someone else should see this.
And tell me.

© Ciprianowords Inc. 2009

3 comments:

patricia said...

This is lovely.

.ylevol si sihT

Beth said...

Yet another lovely poem.
And a mirrored image? It can never capture our true essence.

cipriano said...

Thank you for reading my stuff and appreciating my musings.
-- Cip