Translucent like tracing paper.
Crumpled and soggy from the rain.
I see not what passers by trace.
They trace their own facades.
Representing their worldview.
They do not know or care for/of mine.
Through me, they can practically see through.
I stroll unnoticed a desert of grey disdain.
Translucent like tracing paper. Catching some rays.
Somebody tries to draw on me with magic marker.
What is this magic? I ask.
"This magic", (s)he* answered, "Is the magic of subject-oriented perception."
Resentfully, I look confused.
I do not understand this person's sentiment.
Him/her*, I can not see through.
Maybe you too are like tracing paper,
Or, should I say, tracing paper like you.
*I am a firm believer in gender blindness. If we were all blind, the world would be a safer place.
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