mosaic of love

if mimicry is the highest form of praise, 

then on my knees I lay

subconsciously worshiping your every way 

how can i ever fully let you go?

when I still use your jokes 

and effortlessly mimic your tone.

i can no longer differentiate what was yours and what is my own.

I mirror to get close in body and of mind

soon our mannerisms intertwine 

until we are similar, 

i am you, and you are mine 

who am i if not a mosaic of love?

built from the pieces of people I cannot help but think of?

these little glass shards shine and reflect

though the presence of their artist i inevitably forget.