Mirrored

The glass stretched smooth and dark between us, but I could clearly see her face. Her features twisting as she tilts her had to peer back at me. The surface is blurred, fogged by our combined breath. I wipe it away with my right hand, and she wipes at her cheeks with her left. The glass is too vast and cold between us for me to hear her words, but I see her lips move as I whisper, “Hello.”

That’s just how mirrors work.

More then windows, mirrors hold worlds apart from worlds. The black clouds around her as we gaze into each others eyes. I count the freckles over her cheeks, and the little spray that speckles up over her eyelids. She looks over my face too. I imagine her seeking out all the gray strands loose over my messy hair. This is our morning routine. We wake in our separate worlds, we dress, though sometimes she appears naked, and we gaze at each other through the boundaries that keep us apart. Close enough to see and love, but never allowed to speak or to touch.

I wonder what her name is.

I work my mouth over vowels and letters, trying to find the sound that might capture her lively beauty, her odd, mismatched attraction. In the mirror she tells me about her morning. She talks on, and doesn’t mind my letter sound experiment.

We can never hear each others voices anyway.

I settle over m’s and w’s, humming the sounds together like a child. I laugh at the tickle in my lips, and I look up to see she’s laughing with me.

“M,” I say. She nods back at me through the glass. “And W.”

She presses her palm onto the pane and I press back over her squashed prints. Left to right. Right to left. I wonder if she’s left handed? I’ve never known any one who was left handed.

“Marwill… Milwin… Marren? Is your name Marren?”

I eagerly search her face for the answer and see joy in her eyes. Marren.

“It’s good to be with you, Marren.”

Just as bright as the joy in her eyes had flashed, suddenly it faded. A lingering sorrow spread on her lips. She glances over her shoulder. I sigh and see her do the same.

“Until tomorrow. Marren. My love.”

She sighs and I see my love reflected in her tears. Until tomorrow.

The glass is dark and cold between us, but I can clearly see my face.

That’s just how mirrors work.

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