gliding and sliding  
between two sheets of slippery translucent paper
no friction, no traction, no adhesions
no trace or footprint
closing behind you as you pass
you can live a whole life
striving and trying but
it's as if you were never there

You can clearly see out
you can speak, even raise your voice
you think you're being clear, emphatic,
maybe even a bit loud
but actually,
no one hears or sees you
No-ones’ even noticed
you're on the other side of the glass

The curtain,
the veil, the barrier, the obstruction
whatever you want to call it
that distance between you and the rest of the world
the no-mans land between borders
the space in time between receipt of input
and your output
where all the frantic calculations are made
where all the possibilities and ramifications are considered
before blurting out something misjudged
more thought doesn't always lead to a better outcome
you can overdo it