Tuesday, September 20, 2005

The human eye is capable of viewing 180 degrees in any direction, which means: whatever lies directly behind or tucks itself into the corner like a sleeve is completely invisible. Burdens understand this concept, attaching squarely on the back; they do not squirm or skitter. But what of want? In what vision do you lie?

My neck is warm with your scent. My arms held out like wings feel your shadow, tips of our fingers touching, almost air; almost flesh. Sight is an empty glass. A metaphor for nothing. You follow every step, up every path; when I turn you are silent. My name exists between our bodies yet you do not speak. Dear opposite reflection, lover of the blind—leave me be.

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