I was drawn to this poem because it felt similar to how I write; noticing small moments and flipping through them from an outside perspective. And I like the contrast in intimacy once you've established what "they" cannot see. It's those quieter, more private moments that truly define us. I wonder if the speaker of the poem is glad that "they" are not sharing those private moments with them- or if they wish that their true self was shared with others.


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Nearsighted