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In the cheval glass

I am not who you made me,

who I tried to be.

~

I am like the clouds

seen on the still pond’s surface,

just passing over.

~

You know not my heights,

nor I the depth of the pond

rippling in the breeze.

~

We are the inverse

bound as one in this moment

inextricable.

~

Yet as the clouds pass

the pond is no longer still

each goes separate ways.

~

M. Zane McClellan

~

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