Promises

The last time I saw him was a sodden image in the mirror, stunned to see that stranger in the world, who looked at me with accusation, as if say wake up, will you? He's a sad figure of sorts, still filled with hope and promises, but now mostly just promises as the clock ticks and time bleeds and other people speed by in a blur, a fascinating cultured critter, renaissance pretender, who can't tear himself away from the disturbing reflection.