We step through mirrors and take you
away. Don’t be afraid, it’s just business.
Your soul or an eye, a lifetime or a night.
You’ll be washed of your old fragrances:
the midnight trysts and false promises,
the cash payments and casual heartbreaks.
The room where we’ll take you
has a mirror. Peer into it and see—
how we wear your skin and button up
your uniform, drag your baton across walls
graffitied with names the city wants
to remember, names you’ll surely recognize.
We’ll crack your luxury timepieces,
turn back the minute hand and undo
your mistakes: the perfumed gifts
and silent footsteps, the tinted windows
and red streaked across your windshield
like claws.
Ask your mother if she misses you.
Did we mention we visit her, too?
We’ll phone her like you never do, fix her
TV so she can watch her true crime documentaries.
A TV screen is just another mirror.
Pretty soon, she’ll see you onscreen,
choked by shadows, cut up by the moon.
Don’t be afraid—it’s just business.
Nothing can harm you after us:
no hotline tips or suspicious neighbours,
no chewed-through duct tape or alleyway
escapes. No harsh chemicals to get the stains out,
no stolen IDs, snipped and thrown away.
It’ll just be us,
you, and the mirrors,
and we’re happy
you’ll stay.
(Editors’ Note: “Mirrors” is read by Erika Ensign on the Uncanny Magazine Podcast, 47B.)
© 2022 Millie Ho