It's often that we stare across from each other,
A distance much too close for my liking.
The space gorges itself on a sense of detachment,
Something stupid like that just loves how it becomes
a Space and no longer just nothing between us.
Somehow silence and astonishing shrieks
Fill it up, makes it tangible enough that
Maybe I can ignore it or spend time thinking
Words, wrapping them up in places like this.
Poetry. Or anywhere. Scribbled in lipstick
Who knows? Screens sometimes tell me.
Speaking truthfully, though, that tangible
Something-of-Sorts is easily breached.
I know that we stare at each other,
Unreasonable amounts of time spent
Loitering in 'our' selfish pondering.
I know for fact my fist can break through,
Distance means very little in this matter as
I know for fact that mirrors can shatter.