39 Poem by Tori Bachue

Mirrors, that little thing in the corner of my eye
Sneaking and begging to be named
Out loud but I refuse
As she would reject my truth
It's so silly
The things I desire
And going out of my way
Out of my mind
I want to shout
And let it rain
In the dark
Like you
Oh little Dove
Hanging on your lips
A bed of roses
A bed that's only a bed
When you're with me
Violins in the din
I exagerrate to find
What I'm looking for
Icy shades
That frighten me
Don't let me go