Narcissistic Solitaire

in front of the mirror
you go naked and rub
your body with the oil
from your bare hands

the room is humiliated
and the mirror is angry

the act is done and
finished and you become

the mirror and you are
as empty as the big
room and then you
sleep as it is the only
possible place where
peace can reside.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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