Mirrors

The window to the soul
I remember looking in and wondering ...
from here, where do we go?

I remember looking in and falling
falling into you.

You took those words as sexual escapades
porn on composition paper
not realizing
I had never composed a poem like that before.

In a hall of a million doors you opened one that was very unique
You peaked something that others made mundane
You helped me seek out words that were close to describing what I wanted to make
What I wanted to share with you.

Yet as complex of a puzzle you were ...
it seems my subtlety was lost

I took a picture of a puddle in Sunset Park that day
There is something about distorted reflections
We are fractured in tightly held pieces
Refracting in different angles
and what you might have, is not what someone else necessarily sees.

We are the sum of all our parts and memories
Experiences we try to forget and hide
Experiences that show in weary eyes
The mirrors to our souls.