She looks into the mirror and sees herself.
First, a fleeting smile,
a youthful glow, frozen white as snow.
Her paleness blinds the naked eye.
Her hair like trees, stripped of leaves, of life,
skin as dry as rock.

She sees herself,
looks into her own eyes,
ice blue, two lakes, frozen over.
It is discomforting to see such an icy wasteland,
she thinks.

She looks into the mirror and sees herself.
The mirror looks back.

It sees at first, a fleeting smile,
a youthful glow. Its presence warms the room.
The mirror sees her hair,
healthy, like a tree in spring, with life.
It sees her skin, soft as a baby, smooth as itself.

The mirror sees her plain and simple.
It looks into her eyes,
blue, reminds the mirror of the sky,
limitless, eternal.

The mirror thinks.
She thinks.

Even icy lakes can thaw.
A tear runs down her snow white cheek.
Lights turn to darkness.
She exits the room, mirror left behind.

What lives would be changed if mirrors could talk.
What lives would be changed if people could see their true reflections.