He felt absolved by his reproduction a mirrored funhouse but just the doorman plastered and tethered to each window scrapings of her writing, ideas and fleshy pieces of her disposition clung to each worn mirror although they hand me downs they stood proudly in their keepers maze resolved by their given personas their smiley name tags and spitting image replications if not for goading they would shatter although none would retire for fear the circus would not return what of nothing else but mirrors did reflect among those some altered fashioned with speakers, like parrots replicating, pleading, loathing, not yet confused excited to see her, speak to her a boys favorite playground the mirrors of the girl in the mans funhouse under inspired and tyrannically tired the girl played here too due to the clowns… A dream come true friends just like you.