Fractured Reflection

A cracked mirror slices my face,

one gray hair catching the dull light.

Shoulders slump into a shape I never named,

hands fold in the same slow way,

a gesture I thought was someone else’s.

The glass fractures my shock,

splinters hold a man I was trying to lose.

There is no sharp break, just a slow folding in—

a becoming I never saw coming,

quiet as dust settling on forgotten dreams.