lin, fascinated by the mirror's 

reflection

tilts her head just so, turns her body just so,

deciding which of her selves 

she prefers

i say nothing,  remembering very well

the tug of the mirror at her age

reconciling

reality with the inner vision, often pleased

more often not, never so perfect

as to be vain

the critique self-evident—comfortably imperfect

lin will find herself, for now she is learning

who she is, and who she appears to be