Poetry: Mirror or Model

We’re taking a break from my experiments with different forms, and today we’re doing another one where I blurt things out without thinking about any sort of form.

I want to be like them.
I see them in me.

Which is it?
Which wins?

“I relate to…”
Do I really?
Or do I want to?

Are they mirrors?
Or are they models?

They came after,
But, perhaps, before.

When does me exist?
Always. New me every second.

They exist as concrete,
Unchanging once printed.

Don’t have that luxury.
Reading them, a new me.

One came after, reflects them,
Not the other way ’round.

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