Conor Salinas
Conor Salinas
I want to be the mirror,
but not the nightstand I want to be the mirror, but not the nightstand. -Terrence Hayes
The perfect line for the Perfect Woman. The woman that could make you Quiver with a glance, from her majestic hazel Laced eyes.
To be the mirror, means to be the seen. To be the one she looks into everyday to remedy Her blemishes, wrinkles, and disapprovals. To be the one to make sure that there’s no more lettuce in her teeth from the nights dinner. So that nothing can hinder, her jewelesque smile, that gleams like an Engagement ring. As white as the pearls that are around her slender wrist.
Tbe the nightstand. Means to be the forgotten. The Forlorn. A maple template Cracked from its years of Neglect. To be shrouded in old clocks and lamps that get slammed and tugged on till they become cracked themselves, and replaced to continue the cycle. A new pair of batteries to keep the clock ticking. A new bulb to make sure that there will always be light.
The mirror withstands the test of time with merely a scratch. The nightstand gets abandoned in the alley When she moves on to something better. To get stained when it rains. To be crushed in the trucks that bring it to the dumps, And to left there undisturbed forever In Pieces.
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