serendipity

she has a revelation,
one morning.
the sky is still dark, dawn
starting over the horizon
amidst a bed of fog.

she looks at herself in the
window,
darklit and shadowy,
and her face is crossed with the
fine netting of a lace curtain.

three layers of protection,
she reminds herself on the
sharper days.
three layers lie between her and
the rest of the world.

you are serendipity,
she tells herself.
if she stands on a chair,
looks at herself in the window,
she can see the reflection of her
window-self in the
mirror.

she stands,
trapped between glass
and watches herself.

pulls the fabric from the mirror
(because at this point,
she really has lost sight of
which version she is)

and watches as the sun rises.

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