Blessed Curses
In the windows I saw her
Reflective, tangible dream
So many windows, none of opportunity
I will love her like a stalker
I can feel her presence, pressed against glass
She gnaws on nails, I do mind but don’t
When will we cross paths when will
These two parallels become perpendicular and touch
I’m sure she’s another’s, his, not mine
Not owned, but acquired
Here I go again wishing I was someone else
But how odd is it that scene never alters
Same table, same company, same hand on which she gnaws
It should be bleeding by now
My eyes are, as my heart; crying
I wish I couldn’t see them , they can’t see me
My third eye is smitten with specters
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