'Doppelganger'

Centrefold in jealousy,
In vehemence of disguise,
A part of my whole-pars pro toto,
Not a patron but shunned as a guile. .
I sleep to a behemoth’s waking cry,
Takes flight, I have run off threads,
The clouds vamoose off my sights. .
To grope a smile, I cut loose
The tender elusive healing touch, be mine..
How feels a lost trust?
Blood to a cut?Anguish of hurt?
Miasma of waking up?
In hazel reveries..losing grounds of parados?
Ersatz talisman,
Faerie..my papyrous, it has run off ink dry.
In Darbies of mine, the blind is an eye,
In Clairaudience acrasia..a shadow fight’