[M]/s/[I]/m/[R]/o/[R]/k/[O]/e/[R]

I didn’t want to

Break this fine illusion

But the fumes

Choked me for sedition

I hid behind the

Smooth panel of derision

Hoping you will

Not see past the distortion

But their cracks

Gained speedy equilibrium

And spread on

Veins and webs of summum

Tinkling of glass

Shards of a funhouse mirror

And your initial

Perceptions of me, it shatters.

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