self-reflection is dangerous. that man pretends to be you but he knows nothing, except his left hand knows what your right’s doing. his asymmetric face the obverse of yours, unknown to your friends. he watches you shaving. flashes his teeth. ejects adolescent pimples at you. knows your every flaw. stares at you long enough to make you feel guilty. says good morning, goodnight, avoids you for most of the day. pops up in unlikely places. men’s rooms. sideways glances from shop windows. his twisted Andrew Lloyd Webber face glares back at you from the backs of spoons. keeping tabs on you. always mocking. reminding you daily of the passage of time. you wish you were a vampire so you could be rid of him.