mirror/Woman

you are pale

perfectly

shaped when exhaled

carved into constant movement

ancient greek statue-esque with breast and stomach

beautifully weak with muscles aching

(never breaking)

breathing deeply

shoulders slack

and stretch to the ceiling

extend the back

you are broad

thick with vitality

coursing through your veins

and vain with good reason

as female as they come

gentle contours of the body

living, breathing, numb

I am not mirror

Woman:

More than a reflection.

An innate but inward vitality, naked, but invisible to the eye.

In my mind, I feel the contoured kinship of a mountain range.

Without looking I feel a stillness and a hum

That is as woman as they come