First-Born

for Bunny

The mind projects all the dazzled reflections
         Of a music box mirror.

The solitary dancer slowly pirouettes,
And only the eyes of a small child see.

Flush lips and full hair,
You soon outgrow your younger toys—

Waiting to give out
         Your long, estranging kiss.

You are so certain;
Will the ways of your hands and glance
         Never change?


©2016 Michael Fraley




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