Smoke and Mirrorsby Laala Kashef Alghata Look at the looking glassthey say,they say, see how luckyyou are.But it’s all smokeand mirrors,so tell me how to countmy blessingson my fingersor toes—in my head,or by counting sheep.Tell me everything that’s rightbut even if it’s true,like my old photographsit’s overexposedand every lie is a sword run through my heart.They tell me to count my blessingswith a shrug,they saydon’t collect your tears in a cup.I count my blessingsin papercutsfrom reading booksor muscle strainfrom breathless hugs.
