Divorced from noisy thoughts of hidden meanings he assumes the focused stance
Of a single white candle, standing tall in this bedchamber illuminated.

A room lit by a single candle is more intense than one lit by several-
And the oneness of it invites an image through the mirror,
An image of a girl who is really a boy,
The long haired soft seed of a man, coming through the reflection
And into a white bedchamber flickering yellow,
Retracing his steps from the dream world to reality, but figuring out
Which side of the mirror is out and which side is in is the key of waking and sleeping.

Which side contains the candle and which side contains its reflection
Is the way to finding the boy's true self, waiting, asleep,
Sheets drawn up to his shoulders, torso turned, body curled and
Messy brown locks of bedtime hair concealing a pale innocent expression
And reflecting a yellow flickering kind of suspension.