You Get What Gets Left Out

What the mirror gives
The mirror never
Knows—peer at your own

Pin of reflection
In someone’s pupil.
That miniature

Is not what the mind
Behind thinks of you.
That’s the part bounced back,

That didn’t get through,
Presumably true
For everything seen—

What goes on is gone,
Part of its known world.
What’s tossed back to you

Part of your known world,
Now, is the excess,
Your share of what’s left.