The mirror I decent in
has no reflection,
and inside, I stare
at a thousand directions
to see nothing but silence.
Only the cold reminds me.
I look in two mirrors and see two halves twice of myself.
I recognize both from past mirrored reflections.
I don’t know what I would know about them without them.
The mirror points in two directions.
It reflects me, my outside a stranger to me.
It lets me reflect, what I, think I see.
So, what is reflected?
Am I my own imitation?