Sometimes when I look in the mirror I see somebody I don’t recognize. Oddly someone that looks like me, has the same features as me, that moves when I move but isn’t me at all. Who is this otherworldly clone looking right back at me as if she is upturning all my masked emotions? As if the mirror is hardly a partition enough to separate us. Who is the figure, looking into my eyes as I look right into hers as if she understands things about me, which I don’t even understand about myself? Eyes, pools of liquid yet solid emotion - fiery with passion or dull with despair. When you try and figure out what someone is thinking, where is the first place you look – their eyes of course. They hold no lies inside them and behind those lids, thoughts swirl. The person looking back at me has her mouth turned up in a wry grin as if she figured out that this world was a much sadder place than I thought it was as a child and that there are no second chances in life so if you mess up once, you’re done for. Don’t mess up she signals with her expression as I stare back at her. Who is she? A living imitation of me? Then I realize that she and I are really one being and as I nod at her, I see her nodding as well.