I stand before the glass, a silver plane,
To see a face that's weathered sun and rain.
The eyes look back, familiar and so clear,
The version of myself that's standing here.
But deeper in the iris, far behind,
There is another girl I've yet to find.
She does not wear the smile I show the crowd,
She speaks in whispers, never twice as loud.
The mirror shows the hair, the skin, the grace,
But hides the maps upon my inner space.
While I am walking down a busy street,
She's wandering where the stars and oceans meet.
She is the storm when I am only still,
She is the fire against my quiet will.
We share a name, we share a beating heart,
But often we are worlds and moons apart.
Don't trust the surface, calm and cool and fair,
The real Akifa lives in hidden air.
One day the glass will shatter and will fall,
And she will be the one who stands so tall.