I want someone else to say
what a good girl,
what a bright light,
what a lovely sweet presence
… or to hear it in my soul
so completely
that there is no room for cold.
I am looking to be seen
as if the mirrors
could capture the sun
and intensify my need for warmth
until the heat
annihilates my centre.
Both visions there,
the beauty and the hag reflected back,
the clutching hand, the one extended,
compassion in the tears that see
there is no seeing,
the mirrors are a shield
and a barrier to living,
a shiny protection
against the stark and vibrant desert.