You can tell me:
'Well, it's a face..? '

'But, whose...I'm not
so sure? '

Your reflection
smiles awkwardly

as if embarassed
it should know

...the you...of you.

A mirror caught
in another mirror

traps your words

leaving you stranded
in a dimension

other
than here.

() .

Your beauiful
caligraphy

falter...then.. fails


your hand

lost in the wilderness

of a page

the words
losing their minds

script degenerates
to gibberish

you become only
footsteps in the snow

a chill Alzhiemer's wind

cries through
the ruins of you

your face
in the mirror

more real
than the real

...you?

Dónall Dempsey

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/only-footsteps-in-the-snow-for-lyn/