Through a broken looking glass,


I glimpse sometimes

 a harried someone

flying past, frantic

as a white rabbit 

fretting over a pocketwatch,

seizing onto shards of

self-importance and sometimes 

microscopic broken bits of meaningfulness.

She hastens by,

Archimedes-like, panting

labored breaths of 

“Eureka! I have found it!”

Weighed willingly down

by these ever-dense 

play theories of life,

she brandishes her shard 

like a sabre that has been sharpened 

(yet never to the point)

in her mind, 

the martial ruler of make-believe domains.

Ruling and running,

heedless of slippery puddles

of partial realities 


from her “sabre.”

And then we fall 

she and I 

me and her

(the two of us the same,

if separated by the glass).

But when we fall,

that is when the image 

in the mirror is clearer.

I see, once more, myself,

broken and bleeding for a bandage,

and remember that 

shards, like scissors,

and flawed philosophies,

are dangerous running partners.

I remember also 

the Good and True 

running partner with me, even


And that is the word He whispers.

Photo Credit: Pixabay; Edited on SuperPhoto App

Published by Stephaniesninthsuitcase

Hi, there! My name is Stephanie and I’m a Fresno, CA native. After studying at Biola University, I received my MLIS (Masters in Library Science) from San Jose State University. I live with my mom, poet Kimberly Vargas Agnese, and serve as her unofficial agent. We reside at MeadowArc, a food forest in its infancy. I am called to, and passionate about, purity. In fact, the name Agnes means “pure.” Before I was born, my mom felt led to include the name Agnes in her name, and in the names of her children. My full, hyphenated name includes 26 letters (but not the whole alphabet).

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