Mirror Poems Novels & Stories

Feeling overwhelmed by loneliness, I installed a one-way mirror in the bedroom of the apartment next door, which I specifically rent out to muscular men. One day, through the mirror on the wall, I watched my tenant with his girlfriend, caught up in their fiery passion. I couldn't help but be drawn to his strong physique and impressive size. One day, I pulled him into a small, dimly lit cubicle with me...

Goosebumps raised throughout my body at the sight of my own hand. Claws replaced my nails and my normally clean hand was now covered in pure white fur. I frantically crawled around the hut to look for a mirror in spite of the vigorously flowing power making my steps heavy. Muddleheaded, I moved to the end of the room and found a large mirror before me. The view in the mirror was one that I could not believe. What is happening to me? What even is going on?! ° ° ° Cassiel, an omnipotent Omega who has yet to discover the hidden truth behind his abilities and power, finds himself trapped in a series of eerie dreams and unanswered questions. To put an end to his disquieted feelings, he is led on to a journey unnerved, where he finds himself captivated by the beauty of the Mighty Black Wolf.

Tunnels deconstructs the individual’s Romantic fascination with ‘love’ or the grammaticality of beauty. Ideally, the ‘tunnels’ in the collection are subterranean love poems from the suburban imaginary. These seemingly syntactic tunnels travel through one’s literary imagination or heterotopic dreamscapes, and while αγάπη (Greek for ‘love’) inspires these rhizomic tunnels to navigate the abysmal ‘meta-spectacle’ of gesture, language or moment of poemness, the mind like the many-colored jeepneys of Manila, where driving past roast goose restaurants in Shek Kip Mei or spotting stilt houses in Kampong Kleang, attempt to explore the transgeneric textualities of the everyday, alongside the unstructurality of time and space, the littoral and the liminal.

After returning from a business trip, I discovered that my wife had unexpectedly replaced the floor-to-ceiling window in her office with an entire wall of mirrors. When I questioned her about it, she looked at me with gentle eyes and smiled as she straightened my tie. "This way, when you come to keep me company during overtime, you won't have to fuss over checking your appearance. Don't overthink it. I had the nutritionist prepare some soup to help you recover. Drink it while it's hot." I found it strange. She was a career-driven woman who had always complained that my suits made me look too stiff and formal. Yet now, she had suddenly changed her tune. Still, I did not say anything. I simply smiled and walked over to the mirror, unscrewing the lid of the thermos. But the moment the hot steam rose into the air, two large oval-shaped marks slowly emerged on the previously spotless mirror. And in the corner, there was a faint smear of lipstick. I compared the height with a quick gesture and let out a cold laugh. 'A familiar height of five foot three and a C-cup. Office mirror reflections. How bold and thrilling.' I pulled out a tissue and calmly wiped the mirror clean before calling my assistant. "Get a renovation crew ready. Tonight, replace the mirror in Ms. Sutton's office with a two-way mirror. And notify the media. Three days from now, I'll be holding a live press conference downstairs."

While cleaning Desmond Maynard's house, I accidentally knocked over his mother's keepsake. He once told me it was his most precious possession. But when I picked it up, hundreds of love letters spilled out. There were beautiful poems, passionate lyrics, and heartfelt confessions. He had written one letter a week without stopping. On the back of each one wrote a line: To My Love, Bunny. The nickname rang a bell. It was his junior in college. Things started to make sense. I slaved away for 13 years, running his household and caring for his family, but Desmond never even said he liked me. That was because he already had someone he liked. I sorted the letters by date, put them back, and grabbed my phone to make a call. "Mom, I'm in for the marriage proposal."

When she woke up, she looked at herself in the mirror, and her bloody tattooed face turned up like a ghost, looking at her spicy eyes for a second. When she died, she had another love and fled with all her heart and hated him. The last I brain was sandwiched by the door and put in a brilliant old...

"It was a regular day like any other when I got into the Hardwood Forest. However, staring at the terribly wounded human with a deadly poison almost engulfing his heart, I was utterly confused. I couldn't help wondering, " how did he get here?" "Oh yeah! How do I know his heart was almost engulfed with poison?  The answer is simple. I saw through his organs." Gosh! Do I regret saving him? I don't even know, but one thing I know is that I want to be with the seemingly dangerous man, even though I feel strongly that it's best to avoid him." ... More than five centuries ago, Annabel the elf princess, Celine the vampire princess, and Monella the werewolf royal joined their powers to stop the century-long rivalry among their kind. They aimed to unite all beings within the realm.  One among them was to wield that unimaginable power but they were all killed before the transference.  Hidden in an inconspicuous pendant on Monella's neck, she kept it away, wishing it finds its rightful owner. *** The Book cover is mine! Contact @Keith Shamel Mullon on Facebook for your beautiful cover.

The air in the Parisian haute couture salon smelled like money and fear. I’d waited six months for my wedding dress. Now, it was draped over the shoulders of Sofia Ross—the trending influencer, and my mafia fiancé Vincent Cassio’s god-sister. The salon manager was sweating bullets, his eyes darting between me and the man lounging on the velvet sofa. Vincent Cassio stood up. He adjusted a fold of the diamond-encrusted train on Sofia with a casual flick of his wrist. “Her premiere next week needs a statement piece. She’s borrowing it. Pick something off the rack and stop making a scene.” His tone was flat, final. Under the crystal chandeliers, Sofia admired herself in the full-length mirror, a triumphant smile on her lips. I looked at my reflection in the same mirror, wearing jeans and a soaked trench coat. I looked like a lost tourist. Suddenly, the entire past year of planning felt like a sick joke. I didn’t yell. I just felt cold. Numb. I slipped the five-carat engagement ring off my finger. It hit the glass coffee table with a sharp, final click. “You’re right, Vincent. I don’t need this wedding dress. This wedding… I don’t need it either.”

My fiancé, Skeet Fadley, stood with me at my dress fitting when his phone rang. "Skeet..." Her voice came through on speaker. That was all it took—I knew today's bridal photos weren't happening again. Skeet glanced at me, guilty. "Babe, something came up with Norah. I gotta go." Not a question. A notice. I stared at myself in the mirror, already in the gown, and gave a small nod. "Go." It's fine. My groom's about to change anyway.

Ivana was looking for a hot lover. Her dream came true when she met the pair of fiery eyes in a painting. It turned out he was a werewolf! He was put in there by a witch! Brie believed herself to be frigid but when she saw a hunk body, she fell in lust at first sight. She wanted him instantly. The problem: he was inside the mirror! And the same witch used her black magic on him!That old witch was their grandmother. Could they use their powers to free the men of their heart's desire?