There is little difference between us.
It is as if Narcissus gazed again
to catch a glimpse of us for just a moment;
ourselves as echoes
Products of a common seed, divided.
Tiny ripples reflecting back at me.
Is this the way Narcissus felt, forever
gazing in a pool?
Living portrait of whom I see as me.
A perfect duplicate in flesh and blood
Where I end you start, and seem to be
my echo and ripple.
For Skat's Ode Contest