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My faces can be many, 

but so can yours.

The colors of your clothes, your shape, your emotions—my face can capture them all.

but you don’t seem to understand.

 

See my face, the one that mimics infinite darkness,

But also the one that catches the slightest of light.

That cloud I never hold for long,

Because I prefer the prisms glowing around me.

 

Sometimes you spare me not even one glance.

Sometimes you give me a smile,

Sometimes you smear your hands across my face.

And sometimes you smear them across your own,

 

What I reflect is but one dimension.

The depth of your clothes, your shape, your emotions—my face captures none at all.

I show many things.

But you hold many more,

 

Answer: Mirror

Having graduated from the University of Texas at Austin with English Honors, Keesilla loves writing. From character development to rhetorical analyses to the pure vibrancy of words, every part must be savored like a warm pastry, which are one of the things Keesilla enjoys to bake when not reading, writing, or staring off into space. Insta: @luckandkees (yes, the pf is a picture of apples)
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