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The one you have to face, stares you down without apology. |
| A stranger I met in the mirror yesterday his eyes were different than mine, happy somehow. Already I could tell he had met a woman, his grin practically spoke of sex. I was envious. Angry. A week ago I ignored myself in that there mirror, numb incomplete. We argued without words. There was silent misunderstanding in the miscommunication. Today I met him again, the man from a week ago. He smelled of sex, yet no grin. I could tell already he had lost a woman. I am envious. Angry. |