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"Mirrorrim" began during a summer spent almost exclusively on ekphrastic and proto-ekphrastic poems, including "Instants" (about Eadweard Muybridge) and "Obraz" (a Petersburg album), but it is not based on any work of art, as far as I can remember. I've always found concrete and visual poetry intriguing, and stumbled into this one by accident. When I look at it now, it reminds me how the edges of sleep (the just-falling, the unable-to-fall, the sudden-awakenings-before-dawn-due-to-birds-outside-or-inside-my-head) are often when words suddenly arrive to my undefended ears and tongue.