Mirror Mirror, I Speak To Those In Front

By Pavithra Selvanathan

I resonate with the facsimile put before me. Often, 

The result of shrink or stretch through me.

When built with purity, I gain the perfect image,

The profit made by the glimpse through me.

My voiced replies, often smudged or splintered; 

Lies there the visionary larynx, often rough-handled.

Exculpating eyes may be the relieved one, though,

The exterior views, be my voice, the adorned one.

Mocking be the only exclusion I can take on, since

All I can do is mirror your inclusion, as you take it in.

Generations of me have lost the shine in our voices,

That only a few of you care to re-shine as choices.

However inverted or reversed, our conversations be, 

I will always be averted from the filtered factions.

Shatter me once; we can never converse the same,

Repair me tonnes; the voice still isn’t the same. 

I speak with those before me, via those in front,

Ineffable givebacks, still incapable of comebacks.

From fairy tales to self-portraits, I speak a lot,

Friends’ forever be your self-conscious ode.

By Pavithra Selvanathan