I see now through a window ebbing about.
I look into a world so smeared.
A world stretched out to newer proportions,
A canvas of lights stretching its web-like fingers
to dress itself as stars once born
and the next as only outwardly dressed all composed.
The lights so brilliantly stand and waver as my gaze floats about,
They show off in all their glory what it could possibly be
But all knowingly figure out what it really is.
A world fluidly moving in all patterns
Where some stars come and go ever so slowly
And others only seen in a breath
And so little can be related
To my own volition
A world so full of chaos but of beautiful tides and shallow waters
That water so clearly not making the world so clear
If washed away only to return to the distortion it so longingly paints
We so longingly splash and dance within
That we forget to clean our glasses off more often