Specular

Yet we look, yet can't

We stare as it glares back
At me or you
Blinking as bright
As faces under the covers
As dawn about to break
Yet we look, yet can’t
Turn away, towards darkness
For partial blindness
Sharpening our other
Senses that make us
Hear distant whispers
Sniff out bullshit
Feel the warmth of snow
Savor morsels of triumph
Instead—
We stare
Until it fades
Until then
We clasp
Onto glass
Cold
Empty
Hold
Eye contact
As we glaze over
Fractured
From inside.

Typed on a Remington Model 5 Streamline (1940) typewriter

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The book Intrinsic is out; I appreciate the support! Grab a copy through any of the links below: