The next time that I caught my own reflection, it was on it's way to meet you thinking of excuses to postpone. You never look like yourself from the side but your profile did not hide, the fact you knew I was approaching your throne.

With folded arms you occupy the bench like toothache stood and puffed your chest out like you never lost a war and though I try so not to suffer the indignity of a reaction there was no cracks to grasp, no gaps to claw