I see the clouds running behind the mirror. They don`t know me, that`s why they can`t reflect me. You can`t draw what you`ve never imagined. You can`t reflect what you don`t understand.
They`re black and grey and purple and red and millions of shades between those colours. That`s the only thing they know: my shallow waters, my epiderma.
They say you can guess one`s desires by just looking in their eyes. Nothing more wrong. Try to ignore the faces, try to see just the eyeballs. Do they tell you something? Except their color? Their shallow waters? Nothing about the soul.
People use myths as a guide through life. We never see ourselves in the mirror. You can forget the mirror. Only dreams and nightmares tell us who we really are.
We all are shallow-water fish. Too afraid to explore the wonders below.
So what if they laugh?