Mirrored in my eyes, I am not you.
If blinded, do the insecurities of pain, helplessness and defeat of self image alter? If sighted, do the shields of anguish, realism and humility of self image create damage?
The you of you, I know not. The me of you, I desire. The they of you is your drive… as long as they love you.
. . .
The crack of movement shifts; Ki’s forward motion permeates the air as it ponders, weighing carefully in the mind, alarming his entrance.
Ki was mine before he was Rosie’s…; only for I craved the attention until I didn’t. Had I not, Ki’s subservience would plunder Rosie.
She’s a visual goddess and efforts on her behalf inflate out of the realm of extraordinary. Paling in her shade, the crawlers of comparison, envy and disgust have accompanied me through this realm I’m in.
. . .
Mirrored in your eyes, I am not you.
Joy Jane June
47th short 08.29.2019 inflated realm