Own Image

 

Narcissus

 

To sight oneself in mirrors might not be

Designed to satisfy.

 

Perhaps we cannot quite condemn

Those who self-seek, with their dutiful

Staring to insanity:

Perhaps not true,

Not that they lust for Vanity;

But rather, that this Vanity wants them.

 

Supposing that there’s life in waters, glass,

Desiring to be seen,

That image hurting to have been

Instead of being a gleam on burnished brass.

 

Narcissus dwelt in sympathy

For his poor image, dutiful

To his poor mirror, its unseeing woe;

He wore himself to madness for its cause;

But Narcissus was so beautiful,

And the waters loved him so.

 

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