Reflection
Look up, sudden stop
There, in the office window
Stare, staring
Push back some hair
Grey matted hair
Who is that…
Now I am…who?
Not so old
No longer young
Her new friend
The trenchcoat
Bummed off that last guy
Makes her tough, sophisticated
One final look
Nope, no other improvements
Light my cigarette
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what with all those painters doing self-portraits, I’m glad for a poem on looking at ourselves in the mirror