Prose Poetry: Window

here's the thing about looking

into windows at night,

you suddenly come to realize

the world in its separate

yet inescapable three dimensions,

you see not only your own

reflection, but also over and beyond,

 

you pause from blinking

and for an abrupt instant,

your life flashes before

your eyes, you see all of the scenes

so clearly acted out by

a vivid yet an accurate reflection,

Photo via Pixabay

 

you start to remember

the meticulous shade of a sky that

your cheeks were once

touched by, and a boy whose pride

made you wish the world

existed in only one dimension,

 

you feel the mesmerizing pain that

fills the veins of a

nearby cracked floor and your lips

lift to form a smile a

passing stranger had gifted you once,

 

here you are, existing

in a peripheral wandering between two

dimensions, stuck

in between what the window entails

at day and at night.

Photo via Pixabay