He felt absolved by his reproduction

a mirrored funhouse

but just the doorman

plastered and tethered to each window

scrapings of her writing, ideas and

fleshy pieces of her disposition

clung to each worn mirror

although they hand me downs

they stood proudly

in their keepers maze

resolved by their given personas

their smiley name tags

and spitting image replications

if not for goading

they would shatter

although none would retire

for fear the circus would not return

what of nothing else but mirrors did reflect

among those some altered

fashioned with speakers, like parrots

replicating, pleading, loathing, not yet confused

excited to see her, speak to her

a boys favorite playground

the mirrors of the girl in the mans funhouse

under inspired and tyrannically tired

the girl played here too

due to the clowns…

A dream come true

friends

just like you.