Mirror

      by: Sylvia Plath

      I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
      Whatever I see I swallow immediately
      Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
      I am not cruel, only truthful-
      The eyes of a little god, four-cornered
      Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
      It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
      I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers.
      Faces and darkness separates us over and over.

      Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
      Searching my reaches for what she really is.
      Then she turn to those liars, the candles or the moon.
      I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
      She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
      I am important to her. She comes and goes.
      Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
      In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
      Rises toward her day, like a terrible fish.
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