Tell me, Muletka,
What you see in my place
What Venetians did to your lenses
If the glass is grimy
I plead of you:
Wipe it clean!
Buy the Windex that works
Windex is cheap
I like to think I am not
Tell me, Muletka,
What you see after that
(But please, wash your hands
Do not poison your saliva in my presence)
Is there anything different?
What do your brown eyes see
That my green eyes do not?
If the glare of the mirrors is too strong
Then wield a hammer
Like your undigital forefathers
Mirrors are fragile
They break easily
Do not waste a second, Muletka
I wait on the other side
Wistful, unadorned.