access to a restless perception
of life after the passing of years.
Mirror that reflects images,
the fog obscures the faces
of those who observe themselves,
an act of reproduction as a final point
to our doubtful and useless world.
In the house, I have a mirror,
it’s not just glass,
it’s the reflection of a theatrical actor,
some don’t recognize themselves
in the fogged glass,
nor do they see that there are ideas
and that these are images.
My glass mirror,
architect that constructs
thoughts with great fluidity,
generating nights that
provide dreams and forms,
to capture their true image.