Oh, Window Pane!
My God, my only hope!
I would break you from your tether that I might make all my own the trees and the birds which you have captured just for me!
In jars and vials, shadow boxes felted and gold embossed, pins in the wall waiting for wings to stop their silly fluttering…
It shall be and it shall be good and it shall all be mine!
And even the light that streams through to this dark and lonesome room…
Surely, it must come from you!
If only I could find a way to keep it from bleeding back out, and fill this room with the glow you have made just for me!
Alas, but when I tore you from the wall at last, when I held you in my arms, I cried out!
The light, it did play a trick, and beyond your world was one which sought to mimic your splendor!
“Blasphemy!” I shouted and with vengeance swore, retreated to the inner rooms where this false world was unable to tarnish our embrace.
Dearest Mirror, Fogged, though I can still see…
How I wish to know with my hands and my arms and my ugly nature the perfect figure which stares back now from beyond the gathered condensation with eyes so Azure Blue!
It seems to wish the same; how it returns my movements and kisses even now with perfect precision!
Certainly, I shall be redeemed and this wretched form made perfect when we unite!
I shall enter, through the crack in the corner of your blessed form…
Peeling, day after day, until I have opened the gate wide enough that I might crawl within and at last settle by your side!
But how your world quickly grew from crystal clear to streaks of crimson red,
As these mortal appendages did crack and tear from the strength of your sharpened edges…
And I wept once more, staring down at your glimmering pieces which lay shattered now upon my heaving rotten flesh…
How cruel!
Why does beauty taunt me so, just out of reach…
Now, as the light which once had streamed in begins to stream out through the cracks in the floor,
(For it too must be ashamed at my pitiful pose)
I cannot help but curse and wail.
I cannot help but wonder if perhaps this was all but a ploy to steal from me what was always mine…
Clutched now in my shredded palms, you have lost your luster…
In whose eyes do you shine now?
So you were but a thief…
And I was but a naive fool to trust…
And now…
The time has run out,
As last drops trickle slow…
Through the linoleum tiles and to the basement below…
Now, as I drift…
Oh, Foolish Form was me…
Earth which sits below…
Sky which floats above…
Flame which quivers within…
Water which flows over…
No time now for lamentations.
At long last, the other side awaits…
Oh, Window Pane!
Objects, and the Distance Between Them 