in the mirror
the woman i don’t see
when i look in the mirror
wants you to know
that she exists
she whispers from the shadows
and waits for the echo
to remind her
that she’s had something to say
she paints her self-portrait
again and again
in shades of purple and green
on a canvas of water and smoke
because she has learned
that this is the only way
she’s allowed to speak
the woman i don’t see
when i look in the mirror
would like to be free
she would like to
spread her wings
and fly high
above the clouds
drinking in the sunshine
spitting out the bile
of the years of living
in the shadows
but i hold her firm to the earth
because
i’m afraid
that if she looks in the mirror
she won’t
see
me
03.23.25
All text, images, and audio copyright Clio Hyacinth Corvid unless otherwise indicated. Header photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash.