The images are now almost reflected,
and through smoke, truth is deflected.
In my mind are reflections of the past,
and they are found in the one I loved
last. How can we bear so much pain
and yet learn to love all over again?
The pain of loss encompasses our souls
and threatens to consume us whole.
Unrequited love perhaps lives the longest,
and the one giving up can be the strongest.
Seasons change, but it seems people don’t,
and although they could, they just won’t.
Through the smoke appears your face,
and your mirror tilts,
but hangs in place.
I would like to extinguish the fire
or at least stop the smoke from rising;
I want to walk up to this internal mirror
and see your reflection looking back at me.
If I could, I would pull the truth from you,
one tenuous strand at a time;
to breathe life through that mask you wear
until the heat of my love melts it away.
Failing all this, I must give up, turn away, leave,
and hope you make it through the smoke alone,
never to see what happens when, or if, or how
you face the mirror of your making.
Smoke and mirrors,
mirrors, and smoke: one
obscures the truth, the other
deflects it.
I will endure the fire until there’s no more smoke:
To pick up the pieces when the mirror breaks.
John R.C. Potter is an international educator from Canada who lives in Istanbul. He has experienced a revolution (Indonesia), air strikes (Israel), earthquakes (Turkey), boredom (UAE), and blinding snow blizzards (Canada), the last being the subject of his story, ‘Snowbound in the House of God’ (Memoirist). The author’s poems, stories, essays, articles, and reviews have been published in various magazines and journals. His story, ‘Ruth’s World’ was a Pushcart Prize nominee, and his poem, ‘Tomato Heart’ was nominated for the Best of the Net Award. The author’s gay-themed children’s picture book, The First Adventures of Walli and Magoo, is scheduled for publication. He enjoys duties as the editor of the online journal Masticadores Istanbul.
