I can’t remember the first time I recognised
My face in a mirror. The image of me. Through
My eyes, the glass, the light and darkness.
There was no cowardice, no betrayal, no thoughts
Stampeding over what I considered to be myself in my mind.
I looked at you and I can’t remember, can’t think of the feeling.
I wonder when loss occurred, how long it took to dismantle,
To destroy everything. Was I even looking when it all happened?
Was I an accomplice? I pirouette around my own body, poking myself.
I can’t see myself in all these gestures, turns and behavioural patterns,
It’s a fury from within, injected, umbilical cord to umbilical cord, the womb,
In a vicious circle, mumbling memories from the infinite past putting me to sleepwalk.
“Lili Lauser” by Hans Makart (1840-1884)
