Poem-A-Day: Day 16

I’m Talking to the Man in the Mirror

This man
before me
looks strange
but familiar,
he’s charming
platonically speaking.

We begin speaking,
but this man
is too charming.
More than me,
and it’s unfamiliar.
The thoughts strange.

I shouldn’t feel strange
when we are speaking,
because I feel familiar
with how this man
presents himself to me.
We are both charming

each other. It’s reflectively charming
how the interaction is strangely
like something seen before. Me,
the one doing the speaking
to this attentive handsome man.
It’s not gay, but familiar.

Why should it seem so familiar?
Because we are both insanely charming?
From what place did this man 
come to me from? It’s strange
to question something like harmless speaking.
I feel like he knows me.

He touches on every aspect of me,
and the coincidences are beyond the familiar.
It’s like he’s dissecting me by speaking
to me in the most unthreatening, charming
way possible. His smiles match mine strangely.
Why am I attracted to this man?

And I before me is this mirror man,
who is fluently speaking a language beyond charming.
I am so familiar, because it isn’t strange.