She's part of the furniture

She likes to hang on the wall

They look at her and reflect

Upon their good looks

In the right light

Some say she's warped

Playing cheap tricks

Lifted from the circus

Is how they explain it

The old mirror girl

Hair obsessions unravel

And nose fixations grow

Crooked smiles spread

Over straight faces

And she sees it all

She makes rough sketches

Enough to make herself twice and more

It always ends up like a mask

Space in the eyes and space in the mouth

Looks the part at a distance

But they're always up close.