Sadness

Isolation becomes complex;

in the mirror is an individual

who closely mimics my movements,

claims to be me, but I know better.

You're brought to light with phosphorescent

particles dancing from your fingertip as it

traces the line of the mirror,

what's staring back is different,

gloating of it's knowing of those secrets

you didn't impart,

for our vessels, although locked in sideways

tidal race, never gave the chase

its merit for such companionship,

leaving should be easy when doubt is tasted

so freely in the stew that was made in

our combined pot.

At the foot of dawn I rise, slip the bridle

around her neck then ride

till the shadow creeps back underneath.

Soon everything we knew will be gone,

scoured from the skin as the droplet rolls

down the face.