"Poetic Bloomings: etheree"
Strolls in, and
Plops himself down
In your favorite
Recliner, props his feet
On your wife’s coffee table.
Smirking at you with your own face.
Your voice, not yours, snags onto your brain,
“Now how long do you plan to be content?”
*based on Shelley's supposed encounter with his doppelganger just before his death