where the writers are
First Night

At the last,

we celebrate the first.

We totter on tiptoe,

peering at the mirrored walls -

unaware, unaware, unaware,

that reflection seeks reflection,

dark longs for the light of annihilation,

and mercy is a hazy glass.

The glass shatters, and,

the glass shatters, and,

the glass shatters, and,

the first shall be last

and the last, first.