…a beloved iteration

I am but an echo, lingering beyond my time
I am not diminished with the passing of the years
a deep reverberation in the chambers of your mind
you cherish my reality, misled by emulation
a closely rendered imitation, a constant captivation
I am an illusion, a relished, treasured memory
you are in rapture of this cold reflection
this mirror of your soul
like glass flowers, so alluring, artificial
I am but an echo, shifting sands, I’m hard to hold
I will not reveal my well rehearsed, practiced fallacy
nor will I mar your fervour or your passion
I am only reminiscent, but a mimic slavishly repeated
resounding deep within in you
I am a reproduction, a secondary sound
I am but an echo, a bewitching repercussion
a lustful infatuation, a distortion of the truth
corrupted by misconception, you buy my simulation
you have a predilection for my clever replication
I hold your happy heart, I am engaging and enticing
a perversion of the present
I am something stored within you
a reminder from the past
I am but an echo, a beloved iteration
© Ann Bagnall