（René Magritte, Reproduction Prohibited, 1937）Every morning
I switch on my electric razor
to trim my beard
into respectable proportions.
The face in the mirror
has grown stranger
over the years
and I have refused it permission
to use my name.
I tried very hard not to see
what happened behind the mirror.
Nobody likes to be reminded
of the shortness of life.
But the flaking mercury
made the mirror a window
into the chasm.
From：The Rivers that Connect us to the Past & Survivors, p.86
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