Mirror, mirror—
your spine lined with silver,
and your eyes a sharp blade of bone.
Where do you keep her,
my poor, lost sister
so utterly, dreadfully far from home?
You smile in secret,
teeth but a whisper—I see them!—
and, closer and closer, your hand reaches
a cloying cold claw into mine.
One last time—you say,
one more look—we’ll find her.