I've found myself looking at your empty chair.
Your cats and mine are also staring, they also
search beyond the glass line of the horizon
that extends forbiddingly close, a limit
that is at the same time boundary and edge.

Did you know glass is neither a solid nor a liquid?
An amorphous solid, they call it.
It has to do with painstakingly slow moving atoms.
I like this quote: "it would take longer than the universe
has existed for room-temperature glass to rearrange itself
to appear melted."

But going back to your empty chair,
I sometimes feel like if I look to close
I'm going tho pass through my own image
and when I'm finally done crossing
you will be staring back towards my empty chair.

Did you know there is no such thing as a dark side of the moon?
Tidal locking, they call it.
It is kind of an interminable dance, gaze locking.
We see the same face, until you cross that is,
you will find there's sun on the other side alright.
But that's still a great album, if you ask me.

What will happen once we are on the same side, if ever?
I don't know, but I will tell you what we'll have.

We'll have three cats,
some broken glass to pick up,
unknown seas and valleys to explore,
and two empty chairs.