Narcissus 2.0

Mirrors everywhere
in every direction,
every dimension
curved, warped, broken,
fluid, distorted —
distorting …

You look
at your myriad reflections
trying to stitch together
the real you

What if,
Narcissus had fallen in love
with himself
that wasn’t really him?

What if it wasn’t love
but the idea of being in love
with oneself —
one’s recreated self,
stitched back
from a thousand reflections:
each distorted
in its own way?

The inner you
that we all are
so obsessed with —
it feeds on these reflections
it sees itself through those eyes,
those distortions
and contradictions

Like a huge jigsaw puzzle
with pieces that don’t quite fit,
with overlaps that don’t quite match;
but we still force fit,
because we are eager to see
the whole picture
in its illusory unity

the id
the self
the ego
the aham —
a quilt of reflections
from mirrors we have chosen —
for they tell us
a nice story

We’re Narcissus
who kept on checking
reflections in a pond after pond
till he found one
that made him look
ravishingly good,
and blamed it on Nemesis.

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