Reflection

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Lightly draped fabric
folds upon folds
draped across the body
like an immortilized statue.
Quietly staring into the
mirror looking through the
reflection, looking for an answer.
Or "the" answer?
Touching the cold hard glass
wishing it were a pool of water
she could put her hand through.
What exists on the other side?
Touch the reflection,
see the sadness in the girl's eyes,
the confusion, the fear.
These eyes can tell a thousand stories
but create more questions.
Reaching out to the other,
quietly touching fingers,
to feel those that are foreign.
Reality. Duplicity.

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