I stared at you through the mirror,
which would never work in reality.
You’d always catch my eyes,
like gleaming jewels in the light,
and toss them back at me
through the reflection.
This time, you did everything
you could to avoid my gaze.
You searched your pockets
for some long-forgotten sweet.
You fiddled around inside your
glove compartment, maybe read
some parts of the owner’s manual.
Maybe you discovered something
you’d never known before. Maybe
you looked to the mirror without
seeing my reflection and read those words:
Objects in the mirror are
closer than they appear.