its reflection off the glass
awake. no, present.
its never recalled nor forgotten.

routine elliptical paths trace scarred
satellites long abandoned
on the surface of its starry eyes, destratified.

a tear nestled close defines its orientation.
a window's dull reflection dilates its focus.
a memory of the future drowns out its rupture.

it will never look away. stasis

watching a dead space.

bleed