The other X

I am the object to her image
And together we distort and merge realities
We sleep with each other sometimes
She claps a lot wishing she could hear
While my mouth releases many muted screams.

I could never be her, she never wishes to be me
Ephemeral hatred fills gaps in between
Yet when I flail my left arm, she flashes her right
As if she were almost my reflection
Or as she likes to believe, me, hers.

Why does her hair grow white while mine stays dark?
We try to bear each other's lightness
She laughs and gesticulates, though
Yes, my face wrinkles around hollow sockets
But then our scarlet stockings talk about similar, stale passions.

We jeer and never let the other be the one
I comfort her as she lets me rest in her arms
We try dancing together and fail over and over again
Alternately satiable, we do have our fill
I don't need a mirror to exist, but then, neither does she.

Our strands entwine and feed on blinding sunlight
She calls me her woman in my sweaty nightmares
He always loves one at a time
The other scratches, burns and dies temporarily
The chaotic order of her mind overlaps mine, and we drown together, never free.