is a mirror more than silvered glass?
and whose face appears within the glass?
the hurricane lamp’s flame flickers,
black oily smoke snakes up the glass.
beyond my shuttered windows,
a gale lashes rain against the glass.
i sip red wine and inhale its breath
as warm, wet lips kiss the glass.
in vain rumi searched for his beloved,
while mine abides behind beveled glass.
i still remember the day of her passing
when tears stained my cheeks like glass.
