Mending a Mirror

Neither tarnished the mirror 
by words untrue;
The perfect, smooth surface
Refracted mirages -
a remembrance of candid banter;
a thought of unspoken ardor

Reflecting on the skirmish last fought
upon that battlefield - (smell the gunpowder?)
Heated words whistled past
like fragmentation artillery shells
And the rioting mind wildly tossed Molotov moods
into the tenderest memories
The flickering tongues of wrathful flame
consumed even the most beautiful--

The icy troops of logic begun their work:
Digging the trenches for small sanctuary
from the mind-numbing guilt
Filling moats with unadulterated honesty
(truth so clean you can swim in it.)
Promoting platonic philosophies with morose prose
concocted by purely heartless inductions
And destroying the cross-boarder longing letters
long before the verses
become Siren songs only meant for
your appreciation.

The charred memory-scape,
once unmarred, now
Shattered by our own doing -
Such Art!
Beautiful scars, each sharp enough
to puncture a tear duct.
Now the mirror bore faults like jagged grins,
a smile that's stained with antiquity.

Nevermind the bloody fingers
and the infinite shards of countless hurts -
I am content mending the mirror for the rest of history
(if only your reflection can linger another half an eternity.)