Capgras Delusion

Are you?

Is he?

Am I?

~
Cruelly the feeling that I had has dripped away.

Slowly the paranoia that rules others had crept back in.

Quietly I ponder the soft staccato of steps once taken that has led them here to my doorstep in the otherwise serene warmth of a barely departed afternoon.
~

There was that moment of laughter that I hang my hat on at the end of every day. That sound in a moment I would not have expected it that gave birth to a thought I had not ever cared to think. This idea that will not go away, that sneaks back into the ranging abscesses of my mind and proliferates unchecked by rhyme or reason.

Floating. Is the feeling. Longing. Is the concept. Perfection is the objection, as we all know so well. Replacing the people we know near us with these identical replications. These other sorts. Where has it gone?

Danger.

What?