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Contretemps

Once he lived alone with someone else
Sometimes caught a glimpse
Of her in the bedroom mirror
Looking through the closet of their lives for a dress to wear
Weaving through all the wear and tear that life had styled
Looking for a clue, she was pretty when she smiled
He didn't know who she was, inside herself a strange familiar
Watching fast forward on pause, seeing someone vaguely similar
To a girl that he once knew before, he knew himself as no one new
Perhaps she was, not there anymore, with such conclusions he withdrew
Only contretemps:
Like living alone with someone else
Mirrors catch a glimpse

Poetry by Chaucer Whethers