Refraction

I am the hidden collarbones
the bent perception behind the mirror
a lie wrapped in comfortable skin
shifting vision and erasing thought.

What you see is out of reach
ideas lost in ages, unborn
the perfection held here aloft
for you to aspire and never catch.

I am a shaking blur in eyes
weighed down with time
seeing nothing but past mistakes
and pretend futures

Racing toward me blind
the warped heft of reality
slamming full force into synapse
pregnant with disbelief.

I am the watcher with too much,
extra eyes, different dimensions
head in the clouds where I hunt
desperately for what is real.