narcissus

he was clever as a coyote
with the wiles of a wolf
perfection had passed
15 years before
that year he was
young and beautiful
like grass with
morning dew
now his ego
surpassed the stars
as he fixed his gaze
on the image in the mirror
translating every action
into the words of
another time
another place
clenching his fists
to arrive at fisticuffs
with his friends
as well as his foes
i once heard him
wonder aloud whether
pride was really wrong
and answer himself
that without a god
there can be no
mortal sins
so he could continue
like this without
reflection or regret

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