Gently Down the Stream

I have been grabbed, dragged kicking,
held nude for the rudest of mirrors.

There is more than one of me;
I've eaten the evil twin, taken on
some of her armour and silk.

There is a problem,
there is more than one truth to tell.

My eyes have gone grey overnight.
I writhe and I shine,
I've a head full of snakes.
I'll turn you to jelly; I'll turn you to stone.

There are two of me,
and there are two of you.


I won't lie down again, you know;
I won't lie down again.