In silvered depths, a phantom twin resides,
A silent echo where my image glides.
Each gesture mine, a mirrored pantomime,
Yet lacks the warmth, the essence that is mine.
My right hand raised, it's left that takes the flight,
A world reversed in pale and shimmering light.
The laughter caught, reflected back to me,
A hollow sound, devoid of true decree.
Does this...
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