I sing the Song of Sybil from dry lips and heart,
Weak with my guilt and paralyzed from fear,
My hate and love I cannot sift apart,
And sadness shrouds me, warm, cloudy, and sheer.
I can feel you mirrored in my reflection,
Every stab of pain winces in your face,
Bound on this wheel of tortured projection,
And with every turn our love we efface.
We hold to our hurt, afraid of release,
Of loss; the meaning of a mirror shattered,
A wheel broken, and our love laid to peace.
We lie among the rubble, broken and battered,
Weary with the effort of letting go.
I see you now. Separated we glow.