Falling Asleep by the Crystal Mirror. (Revised).

Winter nights offer no solace to the solitary.

I look deep into the mirror by my bedside
While trying hard to conjure something tangible
Out of the thickening dark,
The interwoven webs of threatening shadows
That hold clarity in pawn
And turn the crystal eye of memory purblind.

I imagine the materialization of my dreams,
A physical restoration of old hopes
Upon the murky surface of the mirror.
An ill defined image of my lover
Haunting the edge of consciousness
Where the sanctified and the sacrilegious meet.

I imagine a realization that I can almost touch,
Hold in the tenderness of my fingers
Like a cinematic image that seems so real
That it becomes real on the surface of the mirror;
A reflection clearer than a 3D picture
Projected down into the tangled dreamscape
Like a soft light filtered through a smoke filled theatre.

Stunned by your loss, the absence of your laughter,
It is your love that every night I search for
As I look deep, deep into the darkening glass.
I scan for your face behind my reflected face
In the sombre gloom, the veils of shadow,
The transposed inscape of the dusky mirror
That draws me deeper, and yet deeper, and deeper
Into the compromised sanctuary, the festering solitude

Of a savage hopelessness.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
20th. June - 4th. November 2003.
14th. - 18th. August 2014.