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!
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