Double

In a text message
I tell you I feel
gilty, and
I think you can identify.
Our anatomies are mirror images;
plated with precious metals,
hamstrings strung, fingers stinging
with paperthin goldleaf,
you drawn out like
a funhouse doppelganger.
Gilted, silver particulate accumulates,
settles in our lungs.
I can identify it only
in x-rays and mirrors.