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Black Mirror

Lacy N. Howard


These are those standing behind the looking glass

sinking below the reflection of black waters

Portraying dead faces likened unto a reversible coat

slipping in and out at rapidly loose concessions

How haunted to be the house without a door

of whom are merely the cold stone and clay

Wanting to be either black or white

yet cannot be seen by night or by day

They are the sea without a bottom

They are the sky without an end

Though they live a journey

to a black hole they are condemned