The table was set.
The morning was fine.
The world lay reflected
in two glasses of wine.

An empty plate
reflected sunshine,
The morning compressed
in two glasses of wine.

What did she see
in undulations of wine?
Were the shapes a portent?
Was there a design?

Were the glasses a mirror
or shadowy sign?
Perhaps they were more
than just glasses of wine.

She and a friend
sat down to dine.
Their reflections drank deeply
from two glasses of wine.

I love the sounds
That come to me
From you
Through my headphones
You typing
You talking
Your words
lulling me to sleep
Filling my dream with
Nothing
but you

Have you ever asked a masked man

who he is

  or what does he stand for

 in an attempt to satisfy

my thirst for knowledge

I looked in the mirror

I have a headache from dreams clawing to break free.