We hold the mirror
Up to our eye
It is dilated
Big as the darkest moon
The cars drift by outside
Trees happily reflected
On their bonnets
In the afternoon sun
Far away from the white horse
We saw in our dreams
Lapping at the silvery water
We went walking barefoot
In the forest
Our feet got dirty and scratched
We looked down at them
Vaguely caught a glimpse of
Our heads
The moon was in the frying pan
A thin sliver of white
Like an eclipse
White as snow
We once saw
Stood in the cold
Held up a bigger mirror
To see the landscape reflected back
We much prefer quieter places
Just the two of us
Not people walking by
Unconscious of the mannequins
And their secret lives
Soon our eyes will deflate
And we will fall into slumber
Where everything is magical
And reflections do not linger.
