reflected into a corner

Poem #143 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.

the mirror is watching
from a corner
of the room

I can see
reflections
but the mirror sees
what’s real
then turns it back
to me

opposite
is the same
inverted

the image matches me
my movements
I dash right
it dashes left
the same

I am confused
am I reflected

is it me
in there

which of us is real

do my feelings count
at all

and does my image
also feel

where does it go
when I’m not watching

I can’t see it
from my corner

Bachelard and me Poem #144: vitae

Frank Prem Poetry