A looking glass seems such a simple thing -
     a boomerang of sorts
          (here's looking at me, kiddo).

So many me's (or you's) to view -
bucked out in natal garb
or gussied up for the corporate ball.
Better fix my Medusa hair,  
Should I opt for the purple shirt?
Just who will I seem to be to you today?

Take a breath - a really deep one
meet those soul panes
gazing back from the other side
emissaries from an inverted universe -
romancing the past - stalked by
tomorrow's "shoulds" and "maybes".

Who will I chance to serve or sway or fool
     between now and the evening star?
          Will one of them be you or me?

A looking glass seems such a simple thing.
     So many me's (or you's) to view,
          Just who should I seem to be to me today?