for once this cat recognizes their reflection
(you know they say only self-aware animals do that)
(you know they used to whine
about teen girls who had nothing
to do than celebrate that they didn’t hate themselves)
with the glamor of
and brushed hair
and sugary depression fat.

but if i am in the mirror then
who is in me?

just some wreckéd witch looking
for proof that she can’t fail her body if she is that
corporeal corpse, corpus
core and cored

not just a cicada casing
who would mistreat the meat its forebears bore it
nor just the wisp who bored free from its forsaken flesh.

                         an animal of both,
                         a smile not torn sunder out a soul.