Angela & The Mirror

behind my eyes 

another dimension 

taps me on the 

shoulder, sad, 

fearful, alone.

I turn to my
portal. a blood-rush
fear stares at
itself, at ME. 

my life-vein fabric
surrounds me with
firey red fear.

gathering my image
for the taking a
voice whispers to me,
"come out and play."

"do I know you," I asked.
"your face is strange
to me." 

"you know me 

all too well,"  was 

the fizzled reply. 

"touch the mirror
and step into your
night-tide."

slipping sideways
through my mind's
doorway I asked, 

"what shall we play?" 

staring with
faceless fear I
pleaded, " where
did you go?  I
cannot see you."

no one was there.

in breathy silence 

I spun back
and peered into
the mirror.  

weighing the image
cocooned in black
I gathered my face
for the taking: 

and from kindled lips
I hissed to the
captured voice,

"you won't go ANYWHERE.

come out to
play!"

text by rick burnett baker

wardrobe by sandra azwan

model dewi joko

art director julien hakym