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.
