Me Two

Me Two

by Sristi Guduru

I woke up in a cold sweat at two a.m.,

Jolted up, resting on my two hands.

I reach over to switch on the lamp,

But the light won’t turn on.

In the mirror, I’m still asleep,

Chest rising, eyes shut, mouth open.

Something’s wrong. I lean in close,

And the other me smiles.

He opens his eyes, not mine.

A shade too dark, a beat off-time.

I lift my arm. He lifts his late.

Two of me, but one’s not right.

I mouth, Who are you?

He mouths it back,

But I feel the words crawl

Like spiders down my spine.

He taps the mirror glass twice:

Not loud, but deep.

I step back.

He steps forward.

And then I see:

His reflection has no shadow,

Pupils blown like ink in water.

He wants out.

I woke up in a cold sweat at two a.m.,

Or maybe I didn’t.

Because now I’m in the mirror.

I’m watching me sleep.