Glass
It’s like touching glass,
fingertips skittering
cold, hard.
I can see the streaks I’ve left behind
but I haven’t reached anything,
just the window frame
just the window frame
and so I turn my wrist
and trail the surface again,
making abstract patterns
making abstract patterns
a kind of stained glass
but it isn’t beautiful
and the glass hasn’t even warmed.
I turn my wrist
I turn my wrist
and do it again.
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“I turn my wrist and do it again” <3