no one has looked at me all day.
i feel pale, false,
transparency sinking in around the edges.
am i real? how should i know?
who can i ask?
maybe i am more like a star,
viewed from far, far afield,
who could say whether my light still exists
or was extinguished eons ago
and it is just now reaching your eyes?
maybe i am more like a mirror,
no substance to myself
but a silver backing,
the ability to reflect you back to yourself,
to show you as the world sees you
instead of showing you myself.
no one has looked at me all day.
the sky has been reflecting the oceans;
the oceans have been moved by tides.
i feel fake, calcified,
a fissure in the earth waiting to be widened.