A Wrinkle in Time

The unfamiliar face in the mirror stared back,
Begging her to claim it.
Every line a broken promise.
She was the past
Written in its folds and creases.
The face in the mirror,
She read it like a book.
The crinkled eyelids held worlds unseen.
The furrows told of things unspoken.
In the twisted lips,
She saw a thousand smiles.
With the subtle curve of the jaw,
She learned to love the book.

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