Sharp likeness cuts nyctophobic nerves.  The glass

membrane consumes me whimpers from my cinched-guilt lips.

She knows the murderer in my eyes, smells the corpses on my breath,

and admires the blood-stained curiosity of my palms.

I promise her baby teeth and picket fences to forget me,

but she whispers killer into my humming veins.

I try to shake her from the mirror, but she lurks

in hooded gazes and gasped breaths.

I collect chalk outlines and blood splatter on skin,

and plead freedom with waterlogged eyes.

She pins me in the reflection,

leaving me trapped in her cold-blooded smile.