There you are, on the other side of refraction and rippled mirror,
behind breathing liquid skin at the midpoint reversal of a dipole.
Immersed in a shallow of surface, rendered in scattered light,
all glare set to shimmer, to flash like flutter across the turbulence.
Here am I, posed on dry land and thinking that I'm drowning,
doubtless beholding on your side of our juxtaposing pond
the very sight of sanctuary you still believe that I hoard,
some symmetrical trick that confounds our common sense.
We find ourselves in storied souls again, old and well traveled,
gills instinctively wafting spices of curiosity and wanderlust.
Their tastes are pungent and daring, bringing blood slowly to boil
by arcane process that inscribes us in history being inked.
And but for a truth you did not know the words to tell,
you might have cut a braver scar on those you aim to skin.
Forsworn in the manner of a quatrain spoken just once,
when your words stormed past the return of my echoes.
About the Poem
This poem describes how someone can appear wonderful in an eager beholder's eye at first meeting only to eventually be surprised by the mirror opposites in their personalities.
This poem is previously unpublished in print. It was finished July 26, 2014.