An Ode to the Looking Glass

The sunlight through window yonder

Shines as bright as through window beyonder.

Mine eyes are beset

By thine eyes' behest.

My world doth clatter and commote

As men live their to's and fro's.

Thou world doth gesture and emote,

But fro and to in auditory repose.

Mine hand comes to rest on cheek I cannot see

But whose touch is delicate.

Thou hand cradles thou cheek smooth and rosy

But ethereal and opposite.

Dost thou regard me in similar manner,

Silent, reversed, and unreal?

Or is thou but a perfect ghostly glamour,

In a reality surreal?

Thou art my looking glass reflection,

Reality's interpretation.

Mine eyes remain beset, thou seest,

By thine eyes' behest, unreleased.