Aged Mirrors (42) Poem by Raquel Angel Nagler

Aged years.
We try no longer to recreate the world,
Ourselves.
What exists seems enough.


Little by little we realize
All the faces inside us,
All the names,
Are the tears of what we are.


Twilights liberties.
Inside us:
The loneliness of freedom.
The freedom of loneliness.


Evening mask-less, naked as a sigh.
It lets the night, the moons
Touch my face.




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