Look, he said.

The past is a worship of 
ephemera

The future asks you to live for it.

Live for it, he thought
Staring from the sockets that windowed 
the reality to which he was subscribed

The reflection looked back but said nothing

Reflections don’t understand

Start now, he said
See, a line engraved under everything that once was

His reflection grimaced, gnashed it’s teeth
the mirror’s glass a cage to this beast