There Is A Spot, I Blink Poem by James McLain

Silver the mirror I make out and am strict.
When I see our possessions, you do I not?
Doing you do preconceptions.
Me you deeply swallow.
Any and all which I see.
Directly with anything.
Unassisted you are me are not just as cruel.
I am and you must be honest with love or repugnance.
There the eye of thine small,
God as I look it is where - four angles can be acquired.
When it is the majority,
I meditate the look and concerning the face opposite wall.
That is spot and pink.
There is the spot and I blink.
I look and I look at that,
and I think of that therefore that is my central one part long.
But that it blinks.
The woman bends in me. Is she, within my range?
Has he really searched?
I meet her, I greet her,
she who reflects that is a spot, I blink.
I am important for her.
She keeps coming, going away.
she who rejects that is a spot,
and speaking my lips open pink.
Those the girl it is young is dampened.
Old woman looks out at me the fish terrible fish in her one,
every everyday, the sun rises and sets with me.