I caught the glimpse and gleam of

                            Aphrodite and Picasso...

in my mirror, each invading my soul with merriment, lament and fear of our own mortality, all of us like

stubborn toddlers, sitting sitting in highchairs, waiting to be fed life, a little excited, a little anxious, and I knew like Gods we traveled with dark glasses of misconception and misery, our faces wet with sweat

and tears, our egos plump, each of us moving from one world to another, our hands

cutting the air into magic masks of unforeseen circumstances we hide behind, each of us craving and loathing the pain of love.