MIRROR
11.2.20
Page of Cups crossed the Fool.
or did this Fool cross you?
what if I told you, just minutes ago I used these same hands to claw into my calm.
You’d hardly believe peace like this could be so violent. Maybe you can. I’m not catching those looks you keep throwing my way, let them go over my shoulders, and bounce off the walls. Breath expectation in, and breath me out with it. We’re more mirrors than weasels, you and I. There’s beauty in that, I promise.