She looks at
herself,
and, rather than
passing on,
remains in front of
herself,
returning her stare
returning her stare.
Time has scribbled
on her face,
the script has
halted her;
intrigued,
horrified,
she has stopped to
read
she has stopped to
read.
Time’s graffitti
has betrayed her,
she sees her story
on her face:
time vandalised her
beauty;
she turns away
she turns away.
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