mirror cakes

i watch tiktoks of bakers making my face.
in the basement i keep knives & serving pedestals. 
he is cutting the throat of the moon to stand beneath 
a waterfall. i wish someone would teach me how 
to coat the edges of my life like this. a blurr blanket. 
mixing sugar & sugar mirage. the baker is careful.
knows nothing about my nose & my cooked teeth.
instead he works from memory of the last time
he made a mirror cake. his own reflection peering up.
severing his face into eight slices. one night 
my bathroom mirror shattered without warning
i kneeled to collect fragments. my face in each.  

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