A mirror could tell you
If you bothered to listen
With an imaginative ear
It is unresponsive to existential distress
And may even react aggressively
If someone should ask: “who am I?”
To an indifferent mirror

Reduced to an outline
Filled with rotating question marks
Like unidentified flying objects
Lost in the immensity of space
They may question the mirror
Why it erased them
And if it doesn’t respond
They may decide to discard it

Left on a sidewalk
Whoever would look in the mirror
Might gasp in shock at such a reflection
Since no one would be exempt
From the mirror’s reaction
To that intolerable  question
Whether asking: “who am I?” or not
It would simply suspect
They looked in the mirror for that reason

And it wouldn’t matter at all
If someone armed, looking for  something to shoot
Reduced the mirror to pieces. In retaliation
The mirror would still reflect the erased shooter
Reduced to an outline
Filled with rotating question marks
In all of the pieces

Either shattered or still intact
Wherever the mirror goes
Once it is taken somewhere
Without another: “who am I?” bothering it
The mirror will rest in peace
Reflecting a perfect void
Wherever that somewhere is