Me, Pressed Up Against the Glass

by A. A. Parr
for 100

After the tree fell,
I could see inside
your window - imagining
everything you do, as inverse
to everything I don't.

Dinner parties
with no guests, except
me, pressed up against
the glass; nights spent alone
on the sofa, with you,
looking back into a
mirror, into a mirror,
into my face.

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