Water Wells

This is a pattern. A reoccurring occurrence where I sit and dream till my eyes fall and my lungs get caught.

This is a pattern.

I watch patiently from the corner of my eyes, but then there are yours. Cosmic and endless caught between two oceans and its tide.

I swallow my courage and remind myself that this is just me. Me, the one whose heart flutters to the tune of kaleidoscopes and the wind.

This time I will control myself.

I won’t look, I must remain at bay.

How dare do you look in my direction, how dare do you pay attention to my smoke and mirrors?

I am uncanny and confusing

I can’t even read myself so, I depend on the algorithms of metal and glass.

Now I look at the metal on my finger and wonder if you think about them too.

I must stop

I must look away

So, I turn my head.