Self-conscious

A momentary lapse,

A self-reflective glance,                

You catch your blurred image in a window.

The space you occupied

Is roughly left behind

As your absence causes it to implode.

Your body becomes real,

Like sentient, walking meat,

For the gaze of an interrogator.

Awareness licks your skin,

You feel the space you’re in,

While avoiding eye contact with strangers.