Homebound

A glass window I have become rather acquainted to, kindly
I draw what looms within upon my breath, gently
I press the tips of my eye lashes against the pane
and watch the sun and the moon and me: a
lesser syzygy in light of the universe

I watch the people pass
in quiet, brooding envy and wonder
if my reflection in the glass is enough
and wonder how long my name will remain
in the last of my grey, dissipating breath.

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