The Search for My Reflection

What does my reflection show?

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The glass shunned me this day

Only shadows where I stood.

A blank space where a face should be

The silvered frame turned away

With the morning light bent wrong.

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I search the rooms’ webbed corners,

Filtered dust-caked window panes

Gazed in other eyes,

cased the dim halls.

Every pane–

floorboard–

Hidden nook,

A promise empty, broken.

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Perhaps it feared sinful tales untold

Or what I had become–

But then a glint on my mind-

I was the face that hid itself

Because it turned with the truth.

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I touched me, in the glass.

I looked at me with other eyes.

I touched  my glass fingers

Knowing myself, but not. 

My glass form was still–too still. 

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Some truths end untold–

The prey was never lost.

Just waiting–for a name.

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Please find a book of my horror microfiction, Echoes in the Dark, free for download here.