Work Text:
🪟
A warm, pleasant morning, the bright sunlight pries.
Though the lady wakes, mother’s lullaby remains.
She desires his sweet greetings to spare her the cries.
She sees him drowned in light, perhaps where mother still resides.
Her small hands on the pane, him out of reach.
Glasses of windows, glasses to divide.
🍷
Lone eye in nighttime, red and wide and too awake.
A toast for past gentle light, but more than history.
What’s once a saviour, now a lasting heartache.
Nothing forgotten, another swig he takes.
“Live!” he laughs like a clown, but the promises weigh.
Glasses for alcohol, now glasses he breaks.
👓
A tea party of madness, to which I was called.
The lady and the clown, smiles upon their faces.
Naught but facades, for memories to keep them enthralled.
As if practised, put on repeat. As if broken dolls.
Yet I play along, for I am hardly a light.
Glasses for my eyes, for a witness is all.
~Reim Lunettes