Bronx Tradition
Sisters under the skin, we meet in the mirror, our images superimposed for one split second.
Choosing our guy to date,
mirror mirror,
give me new choices,
to pick.
Mirror mirror,
looking in the mirror,
and choosing one certain one,
to become the only one.
A dab of blood,
a handful of glass pieces,
maybe a broken heart,
a source of pain.
Submitted: August 05, 2010
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