mmmdcxlvi

You’re the Smoke
I’m the Mirrors

“Don’t look away!”
you say, swaying.
Who’s playing a
round? Is that

the question?
Nope. Or if it
was, here’s a
new one: May

day! Mayday!
Only it’s July.
And we’re look
ing quite august.

We twitch as we
switch, you to me,
me to you. Now
I can wear my

pants, and yours!
And you? You can
wear neither. So
we both refuse to

wear pants. And
this is how things
go in Smoke-and-
Mirrors Land. Un

til one of us gets
thirsty. And trust
me, this will ine
vitably happen.

“Just ask the mirrors,”
croaks the smoke.
“Just ask the smoke,”
the shards each gloat.