I am you. I am just beneath your skin. I am your shape. Slightly smaller, wrapped in flesh that you recognize as yourself.

When you look into the mirror and see your face, you do not know that I am the one looking. You do not know that I look alongside your gaze.

I am beneath your skin, a few centimeters under the delicate silky hairs that grace your arms. You move, and I move. Just beneath.

And when you sleep, you think nothing. But I am there. Always. Right under your eyelids, and I do not sleep.

I am growing. I am filling in the hollow space inside, expanding. And soon my fingers will come to rest right up against yours. My mouth will close upon your own, and my tongue will speak your words.

And I will become more than you.