The Man

I see a man standing in the window,
he looks back at me.
His leather jacket reminds me of something,
but I don’t know what,
His hair to the middle of his back,
but he looks so familiar.
But I can’t place him.
His eyes seem dead, lifeless, and almost careless,
and at that moment I realize,
I’m not looking out a window,
I’m looking in a mirror.