dancing with the mirror

sometimes it feels as if i have been dancing with this mirror my whole life.

as long as i recall, she has been there at my periphery, beseeching me to
glance her way, as though if she could get me to gaze her way just once, she

knew she’d capture, hold me, at last in her own. for years, i successfully
averted my own eyes, or closed them altogether if her allure threatened my
resolve to avoid acknowledging her truth. and so i’d stand before her every
morning, believing that she wasn’t really real, while i checked my hair, my
clothes, my mask, never noticing that when i moved my hand, she too was

this pane of glass stood solid and unchanging between the two of us for
decades as i refused to look into her eyes to find her trapped inside the
pain. until the day i came before her naked. suddenly there was no way to
avert, no place more comfortable upon which to rest my eyes, so i looked up
at long last and she captured me. she refused to let me go.

i gazed at her, and she at me, day after day, until we knew each other
intimately. and somehow in this while, my tears became the mirror for her
pain, reflecting and releasing what i saw behind that glass. unbeknownst to
me, each tear that i wept was but a liquid droplet of the glass that stood
between us, until one day i came to find the glass itself was gone and i
could reach across the space and touch her.

this morning, i stepped right up to the imaginary line where the mirror had
once stood. i reached my arm above my head and laid its full length bare
against her flesh. i felt her roundness and her warmth right in this very
place where there had once been only the flat coolness of the glass. with
the contact of the other arm, our breasts came close, first with a glance
and then with urgent pressing, our bellies, thighs, our bodies flesh to
flesh. as we began to dance, she was responsive to my touch, moving as i
moved, swaying as i swayed, just as she always had longed to be. and we
were passionate with each other in a way i had not known that i could be. it

was as if her legs were my very own with all their power and their grace, as

if my heart itself were twice its size.

as we made love our bodies became one, and as i entered into her and she in
me, we crossed the threshold into a world that lay somewhere far beyond the
mirror. and in this place, there is no consciousness of being seen at all,
there is only One of us, loving and seeing from within.

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