I never see my own face

I never see my own face
I come close to a familiar stranger
a few feet away in the bathroom
a sliver in a hand mirror
pressed close

At night in shadow’s promenade
I see a crushed moon
and obedient satellites
reflect steady in the gloom
and the faces
of everyone I’ve known
dance the surface pulse
in and out
at my temples

Young and old
blank and skeleton
and bliss
play across the void

And watching
I pray
with marble heart
and hands
I do not recognize

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