Who is she?”

Standing reflective of very glass,

Looking through as each tick peddles,tock pass.

“Who’s she?”

Blinking her fetish away,

Jolted before sleeps again.

“Who’s she?”

Is she you?

Elegance resides not on facial features

Nit in clothes you snuggle up!

Not of what you have.

It’s all that reflect eyes, when with immateriality,

Your vision sees through the opaque.

Fallen i wasn’t

For i did not do you wrong.

It was itching really bad,

When you tried stitching them aside,

Yet they pierced them out.

“Who’s she?”

Is she you?