Less Than Whole Poem by James McLain

She thinks she is, does she see,
the different face as the mirror she
sees on the wall to hang her name.
I see throught the window that is she.
Her windows reflection, always washed
it always seeks the path on trails of tears.
It washes her past her always, it cusps
Upon her highways, into face a differant wig
to hide the sea, in oceans claim to face
reflections past upon.
With a face inside the mirror that always
lays beneth the sky.