Reflections

		He waits inside the mirror's frame
		some sinister antithesis
		a shadow of my former self
		a man of older countenance.

		His eyes see through my artifice
		he watches at my window pane
		kneels down with me at water's edge
		mocks in perfect pantomime.

		Who is real and who is false
		he reaches out to touch my hand
		longs to leap inside my mind
		to live within my lover's eye.

		I dropped my mirror to the floor
		and now he's looking up at me
		broken bits of who I am
		a thousand ways to say good-bye.

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Indistinct reflection in a mirror

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