In my apartment bathroom I am confronted by 3 reflections of myself.
One is the face I've known and watched transform for almost 25 years, familiar.
I know thousands of expressions and goofy faces on this canvas of skin, yet there is another mirror on the wall to my right that reflects the first mirror, splitting it and reversing it, I'm confronted by the face that the rest of the world sees, my right arm is on the left side of that image and the scar on my left cheek is on the right.
This face seems less familiar and ironically more worn, yet the most jarring thing about it is that it doesn't look me in the eye.
if I met this person on the street I might casually pass him by.
Just another face in a world of millions, making me feel an odd normalcy that was strangely lacking.
I'm on the sky train from JFK airport to Jamaica station.
I stand near the back and look out to the train car behind us, I can see through to the people there but the window is at an angle that reflects the sky above us, making it look like they are standing among the clouds,
this reflects back to me drifting in a sky of my mind, melancholy daydreams float by pushed by thoughts.
My mind is clouded by old storms and vapor trails of memories that slice through my brain.
Echoing my rather bumpy flight to NY.
Yet serenity returns to my skies as I observe the Angels in transit.
I'm in a bathroom in Manhattan.
Two mirrors face each other and I stand in the middle, watching a line of young men curve off into a green blotchy eternity.
The same face in a world of millions and a million worlds. I feel crowded.
And slightly less alone.