craquelure


let’s take a moment to reflect
on you and me
as if we were mirrors
facing ourselves.

i gaze into your pure hue
as deeply and
longingly
as these eyes can manage,

only to be met
by an indifference
so natural and perfect
it makes
the effort worthwhile
nonetheless.

you are the polar opposite
of who i wish you were,

even at your best:

your indisposed conversation
i must scrape from the
surface,
the secret you
yet buried beneath
layers of stoic concrete;

and even still,
i find myself unable
to think of anything else,

you are always the first
thing i notice when
entering a crowded room.

my lenses blur your shape
until you become
an exquisite creature,

irresistible
yet unapproachable;

i am thus resigned
to feelings
better left to the actresses

and my love for you
becomes a lost art

underappreciated,
unrequited,

archaic even to itself.

i have faked you
in my sleep,

dreamt effortlessly of
your human heart
beating in rhythm
with my own,

lost myself in the
intricate crystal patterns
my mind draws
without thinking,

sometimes, upon waking,
to accidentally
replace your true self
with those figments of my
imagination.

you do not
comprehend
the meaning
of those broken
shards that
refract my image
into yours.

they
are a means
of self-defense
against heartache
i no longer
wish to indulge.




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