Glasses

I see the way you look at me

and I cannot see how you look at me
all at the same time.

You wear a mask, but
I think you take it off when we are
alone, but
it is hard to be sure.

Because we are always alone.

When we stand on street corners,
you make us alone.
You make us wild and intimate.

I bled this morning, you know.
And I could swear I found
a piece of your fabric stitched into my stockings
and a piece of your song in my stomach
cramps.

It is hard to tell.

So tell
me what I look like
through those thick frames, and
whether you must wear them
all the time.