Mirrors II
All mirrors are charades, deceptions,
it can show you what you are, a body,
but itself shows a body without volume
a body that doesn’t take up space.
Wafer like or like a waif, my mirror-self
a malnourished doppelganger, a shadow,
never a whole. And I wonder sometimes
how much envy my second self holds
always the mirror, but never the mirrored.
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