Symmetry

A crash, and the sky staggers, astonished
As would I, in exchanging webs of lightning
Do I find myself in symmetry with the other
He wears my face, my skin, he cheated my eyes
Those grey, sleepless eyes of mine, he has
He feigns my plea, I am conveying, of course, to me
But he is not of me, for surely I am me, no?
His smile is distasteful, unsettling more so
Clamorous and indignant, the clouds part ways
Soaking us each to my face, my skin, our eyes
And so wiping his guise clean of a baneful sneer
Rendering away what so fittingly is mine
Puddling with the slope down for the drain
Reaching to the sun, warming to me