An Untitled Poem

CJ:

When peering into the looking glass, the water
shimmers with a translucent reflection such that
one can see through it, to what lies beyond- below.

Counting backwards, asking questions I know the answers to,
I find myself closely with you.

In your darkest quarters I find measures of our spaces;
tied together by doorways and corridors, staircases and window frames.

The whole thing trembles, unsure of which part was build first,
not knowing which foundation is responsible for which spaces,
and above all- always dilating.

And so we are,
armed by what little we carry with us.