In the mirror lies
an unidentified twin,
eyeing dark lines
in light of the past.
Entwined in the finite
shedding of skin,
a reticent shadow
with shackles to cast.
As black and hollow
as ink over glass,
a lingering flame
slowly flickers and dies.
Shattering twilight
reveals at the last,
a birth to dust
from which we rise.
my mirrors are all cheap