Written in January 2015.

the wind brought them and
their paper crowns of laughter,
their fake perfection smiles
through the looking glass.
they live in their reflection:
beautiful, not untrue.

the wind brought them eyes
and pretty masks of unreal gold
to flaunt and see through.
love, envy and hate.
pretty gold to dress them.
pretty gold to choke them.
pretty gold to blind them
for their eyes don’t see the flames.

the wind brought them.
the wind took them.

ash-covered blue paper crowns
glint cold silver;
the sun imprisoned by the
mirror, mirror on the wall.

T. E. Pyrus


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