Its
vertical surfaces
are concave, convex and wavy,
painted with a smooth film of silver
so pure it’s scarcely there.
Its aisles are laid out in a maze.
Its mirrors, the Beatitudes
objectified, are ever giving back
all that they receive.
Having been brought face-to-face
with each monstrous masking
of their guile, the visitors
emerge from it terrified
ad nauseam, baptized
in the horror of their selves.
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