Standing by the river, my face grew
into a flat fish and floated off
to a lily pad, and I was lonely
without myself, without my twin.
The river kept going on and on,
talking to itself dark thoughts,
and the rain started pattering on my face,
so that I looked like a spotted leaf.
And my eyes searched the river for my past
that might lie thick and slow underneath –
until somebody called my name,
and I walked home, turning my back on myself.
looking at your reflection. What would you say to your 'twin'?