Sonnet 14

Who is the man in my reflected glass Whose tiny thumbs tickle my throat and tie From room to room I watch him as I pass Holding his pain as if he wants to die I use to shave him just to see his skin But now his head and face is full of hair One could compare his likeness as my twin As I adopt his cold and eerie glare For hours he cries with eye drops from my eyes Often he spies...reflecting from the light With my disguise he tells me many lies So with a blade I made his vision night Oh Lord, my sanity is most unkind The morbid man was me now mute and blind!