Brand New Mirror
By Tyrone Barrozo
Long has it been since I’d last
spoken, seen, and thought of you.
I can say the same about the
salts, the sips, and the times when
my eyes burned as we
smiled into the sky, searching for
to save us.
It’s a coincidence that we meet within
this solitary room like we used to.
Do you recall when we followed–
studied–the spinning of the ceiling fan?
Do you still wish to fly?
To have that feeling of
foreign sensation of warmth
absent beneath your toes?
Because as I grew up, I
outgrew those mirages in the dark and
gave up on calling for saviors.
So forgive me for not wanting to fly–
the steady carpet beneath my feet feels
just fine nowadays.