deformography

I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see, I swallow immediately;
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful –
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over. […]

Sylvia Plath, in “Mirror”