In the gaze of the other

"My mistress' eyes are nothing…"

Wet Thoughts

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moon07

And so I sit before you, father-mother missing moon sheltered from the rain above the clouds, intuiting the vacant stare observant.

Though core-less we two, you cold, me warm, a higher vantage point edges your sight supreme at such a remove.

Like you, I borrowed neighboring light lent unwittingly, beneficial excess of the mindlessly ebullient glow of splashing smiles.

Sprayed sunshine at the concert last night in a stranger eye-lock and motionless high five link, praise to musical gods enchanting.

Leaked light of courtesy in rote rhythm of seasonal cheer upon all us retailers and commerce night keepers: “Happy holidays!”

And idle conversation in endless express lines as I count the water meat drops in frosty plastic packages while checkers chat up customers.

Reflect now, we two lunatic hollow grims of burnt out starry stories–so many–whirring past like molten lead dripping burnt passion burst.

For we watch the rain the same, you above, me below, cool companions invisible neon in the night, filtering nothing, just bouncing rays.

 

 

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