In every mirror lives a soul.
In every eye reflected.
Writ upon silvered glass, scattered repeated but all of a piece and whole.
Wrought in secret from their oft glimpsed twin, ever a fleeting sight but ever the silver boundary respected.
Each one happy or sad as the day may be, I wonder often of my other me. Does he look as tired as I do? Do I also age so fast? Is he as a gilded prisoner or is he free?
There is no answer to be had in silver or water. Best just smile and wave when our eyes meet and leave of fate to the moon’s bright daughter.