A sprinkle of wit, a dash of dirt,
Gaze long enough and watch the skirt
of hidden specters, dressed in threads
of bygone whispers, wry yet unwed.
Mirrors resonate differently when they dialogue
with unseen layers of soil below. Beneath our feet,
life’s earthy secrets joke poorly. Why did the worm
cross the profile? To decompose the punchline!
But here, amidst reflections that ponder their own
existence, the mirror holds more than glass. It seethes
with haunted ambiguity—revealing that which is not, yet
perhaps inside you, nearer than your breakfast fork.
Explore this realm of confusion further:
Delighted Dirt
Haunted Quill
Hapless Horizon