Through. Poem by Kim Dang

My gaze guides me past this window,
however strong the sunlight reminds me of its tainted sills,
like burning lime juice on dry parchment to reveal those hidden messages.

My gaze pierces through the passerbys walking horizontal to my box-like view, reels of film clips that never repeat themselves.
It takes me beyond the nightly murmurs of frat row number two, the bases that pound to make me miss each crickets chirping.
I am left to just gaze, my lashes barely touching the pane even though my forehead has been thoroughly mushed and slightly red from such pressure.

What I am looking at I cannot see, however hard I concentrate on my current view.
Preoccupations.
I am peering down at the soft movement of your lips, noticing the difference between moisturized and chapped, noticing the time that has lapsed for me to tell, but not noticing your words.
They float..somewhere. I'm a dreamcatcher, too loosely sprung together to be catching the right dreams and I'm stumbling on nightmares.

I honestly do want to hear your words, but for the moment they're lost to me. Such as the view that's lost to me.
Like a child caught in the act of daydreaming,
your words will remain lost to me.

At least for now. And I am sorry,
but there is little motive in me to try and look through the window to enjoy the same beautiful view again.

At least for now.