Inside Her Reflection

I looked into the mirror but I didn't see me,

I saw a woman rehearsing how to be me.

Same eyes,

but softer, dimmed with light,

same hands, holding on too tight.

She knew the kitchen,

knew the floor,

she knew the stick upon the door.

She smiled the way I taught her to,

a quiet smile that passed as true. (ohhh)

I asked her where I went last June,

she said you left too soon.

But left the window open wide,

so you could find your way inside.

She knew the kitchen,

knew the floor,

she knew the stick upon the door.

She smiled the way I taught her to,

a quiet smile that passed as true. (ohhh)

I pressed my palm against the cold,

and felt her story start to fold.

She blinked, and then I came back through,

not someone new, but still

true.