Glass

By Ina Spencer

Reflective panes of reality stare back at wide eyes being shown the truth for perhaps the first time. Lashes slowly blink in sequenced motions, keeping rhythm with the pace of your feet. Lifeless blocks pass one after another-bland. No spices left upon your tongue, leaves only an inexperienced mouth. Deprived of what it tastes like to live. Something undeniably mistaken at first glance, like the process of a butterfly. Upon discovery of a once lived in cocoon, slightly above your eyes in shimmering bright colors, you see the beautiful result of an ugly past. Realization sets in and the transformation that has been boiling inside to take hold, resumes. Answers questioned and own opinions made. Like a blind man having his sight for the first time, tears fall upon cheeks for the knowledge hew has just been given. His cane slams to the floor and suddenly you are faced with your own reflection. The glare of the lights pierces your pupils and stings your brain. You suddenly see just who you are and except it in it’s entirety. You have awakened on the other side. The truth has been splattered across your eyes like paint on a white canvas. “I’m gay, and damned proud!” …OWN the looking glass.