Staring in the mirror. The eleventh time this hour. Eyes at a dead lock. When you lose, do you know you lose? If you blink in a mirror staring contest, do you lose or win? Do you even know if you blink?
Some mornings riding the subway. Another world or country doing the same commute. Tapping into subconscious. That person blinked. No flickering lights. Blinking!
Freshman year of high school. All the roar of emotions. Being raised on soy and still cis to this day. Still Pescetarian. Malnutrition. Shuttering eyelids like a beat these daze.
Soft Blade like plugged-in electronics and a bathtub filled with bleach. Oh, but not too much, no. And in right field, a lane. Cross paths and you’re in Zerkalo: