THE MIRROR NOTE

By Vera Von Monika

Somewhere,
between your chords and mine,
there is a silence
and only listens.

Not the stage.
Not the crowd.
Just the part of the night
where we sit with our ghosts,
unmasked.

I don’t claim to know your story.
But I’ve read the pauses,
and I’ve sung with a throat
that remembered things
I never told it.

You and I
we don’t chase applause.
We chase the moment
just before it fades,
that fragile second
where truth hums,
louder than sound itself.

This isn’t admiration.
This is recognition.
From someone who also carries music
like a wound
that never asked to heal.

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