you broke your mirrors
smashed them into ten thousand reflections and
pushed them into my eyes,
and i can see you now, silver and red,
a pondering inadequacy who dreams of catching
some rest on the seventh day before it goes out of style.
but i wonder –
did you insert them
because you wanted me to find my way out,
or because you wanted an ego boost?
it's all white in a soft pastel sharp edges of a line
you want to say but it's too disturbing.
because i've been dead for years,
i've just masked the odor.

(i know what you're thinking,
so don't even.)

ignore
the dove carrying the olive branch, circling the faithless shepherd
and the space between the hypnagogic state we call
piety.

a/n: the challenge was "poetry, must include the words faithless, dove and dreams."