The first story ever told was not about gods
or the creation of the world
it was about a woman
and a mirror.
This mirror concealed her beauty,
despite all efforts at adornment,
no matter how hard
she tried.
So she tilted the mirror towards her lips
and whispered a word in its ear
and that word
was a man.
He went out into the world to find her beauty
and bring it home to her. Caravels,
triremes, space probes:
all were launched.
They say there was a thousand ships. Mine
was one. The route was a tangle
that took me through nights
whose horizon
was marked by where the slow star-set
met itself reflected in calm still waters,
and home emerged at last
where this confluence slit the sky open.
And it brought me back, with the message
as it had first been told
the world exists to make my love
a better mirror for your soul.
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