The first wings,
that lifted me into the air.
With each step,
I floated.
Each wing, close to my temple,
whispering the secrets of isolation.
Before I met them,
my eyeballs were naive,
lonely,
and shy.
Two pearls,
two suns above my chimney top,
two branches growing along my roof,
the shades of my windows,
the shoes to my feet.

Oh, sunglasses.
The day you first appeared,
lonely, and shy,
like my windows.
Your tag that labeled you,
of something you weren’t.

You’re the shield,
that saved me from the blinding heat,
the umbrella beneath the rain that falls along my face.
But you’re now frail,
and chipped.
Scratch marks run along your rims,
But your temple,
as one,
with my temple.
Connected and will never dissever,
because I dislabeled you,
and you dislabeled me.
Now we are only things,
things in life that are only to be.