If our shadow self could not only walk
But if said shadow could also talk the talk

My shadow would throw shade, 'Good morrow thick one!'
I would quip back, 'Good day to you, marrow none!'
At least I hope there would be witty banter
Some good old tit-for-tat— cantor to cantor

I imagine we would be lifelong best friends
Doing together all the odd and/or ends
Whilst joking back and forth about our men
Clucking all day long, just a couple of hen

We'd know how the other's sentence is to end
We could ruin the punch line that did impend
I'm sure there would be a few spats here and there
Likely 'bout her...