The Other Woman

Who is this woman who keeps looking at me?
She stares as if she can see right through me
At times she seems to know my every thought
At times she looks at me as if she is saddened by what she sees
Other times she seems so happy
Then there are times I see the same wrinkles upon her brow
The fine lines of time crossing around her eyes

Yet with all of this I wonder what she truly sees in me
What is she feeling and thinking while she mimics my every move?
What does my reflection think of me as I study her in the mirror?
Does she see the real me, or the person I perceive to be?
Is she all that she can be?
What does it take for me to be her and she to be the real me?
Who is this other woman looking at me?

Rebecca Hofeldt
http://ThePoetWithinCommunity.com