I hear the echo of my own voice bounce back to me.
I stare at your blank face,
receiving no sense of verification that I, nor you, even exist.
I try again to reiterate my thought but by then you have moved on,
Something i have deemed too familiar.
You speak,
I listen.
Yet my mind is stuck in this perforated space in time,
where whimsical stories fill the air, the unrealistic fables we cling onto so dearly slowly becoming more translucent now.
I blink and I'm back,
Along with the everlasting inscrutable look I call home.