For the nth time
my reflection has not changed—
eyes still shine,
complexion’s a trifle sallow
my smile fixes it—
it’s all birdsong, all sunshine
in the bureau mirror.
Why he turns away—
that strange expression
when I try to meet his gaze?
Where is his stark admiration—
his raw honesty—
when every inch of him
screamed, “You are ravishing?”
Repulsed by my imperfections?
He said we had a deep connection—
fire in my eyes turned him on.
Has that flame burned out?
Or has his love slowly died?
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Nandita Author 