Mirror (Part 1)

Mirror

I am silver and extract. I have no preconception,

Whatever I see, I swallow immediately.

Just as it is, unlisted by love or dislike

I am not cruel, only truthful

The eye of a little god, four cornered.

Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.

It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long

I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers.

Faces and darkness separate us over and over.

Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me.

Searching my reaches for what she really is

Then she turns to those liars, the candle or the moon.

I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.

She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.

I am important to her. she comes and goes.

Each morning it is her face the replaces the darkness.

In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me and old woman

Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.

Sylvia Plath (1932-1963)