Unvarnished

The mirror shards,

sharp as the strands of grey hair,

unvarnished 

like the redwood trees.

You would not recognize

the resilient starfish

left on the shore 

to die.

You were a stray dog

that followed me home.

I let you into 

my consciousness.

You wagged your tail,

you licked my face

with adoration

before you barked.

When you bit me,

I put you down.

I was sober,

you were not.

I was not a munequita

to chew and spit out.

Blindfolded I was lured

by the darkness,

misery I mired in.

You set fire and scorched

our landscape.

I  rose from the ashes,

while 

you

became a 

ghost

of the past.