Spectacles

They call our perspective

Our lens

My world view is shaped by the lenses I use,

But

My perspective is always framed

Never just the lens itself

I see the edge of reality between the space where

The frame

Stops

And the blind spot

Starts

And it is in this border between worlds where the quiet

Unseen

Blurred

Happens

Where I have no clear framed lens

On the edges of my vision

Where magic might exist

Where darkness begins to creep

Where you never truly see

In the quiet corners.

A spectacle occurs.