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Mirror Mirror

What is the opposite of rage?
A bass breaking pond skin, ever widening rings of calm.

What is the opposite of rancor?
Children bursting through double doors, gleeful for recess.

What is the opposite of humiliation?
A yellow pot of orchids, a riot of summer fields.

What is the opposite of apology?
Times Square to Fifth Avenue brimming with rainbow flags and pulsing voices, standing fast side by side, feet planted now dancing.

What is the opposite of mercy?
Knees pressed into a sidewalk filled with road grit and gravel; no shelter from the storm.

What is the opposite of moonlight?
A dusty corner with bedside table stacked in magazines and plastic lipstick tubes, big screen TV.

What is the opposite of celebration?
Island of plastic riding a salt water gyre just off the coast of Chile, blue whale beached and bloated, belly full of straws.

What is the opposite of preemptive strike?
Circle of strangers moving widdershins, shaking hands, blessing each other with Shalom.

What is the opposite of betrayal?
A pink bow of lips latching to its brown nipple for mother’s milk.


What is the opposite of patriot?
Ocean touching every shore, clouds dappling a planet, Zeno’s arrow seeking its bulls eye.

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