This poem is very dear to me. I
wrote it to Louise, a few months before she has decided to set her
beautiful soul free from the terrible confinement of her body.
Mercilessly, she shaves her self pity with
a broken mirror, like a tortured heroine
from an Ingmar Bergman's movie.
Enchanted by the mortified horror
of her disfiguration, caught in its dark spell,
she fails to see how the broken mirror
fragments and mutilates even the brightest angel.