Without My Window

Without my windows, I’d lack cognizance,

Unaware of all external affairs.

I’d hold abundant amounts of inquiries regarding 

what goes on beyond the walls of my  

compact capsule of thought.

With no other option than to plunge into endless thinking,

I’d waver useless ideas and concepts back and forth and back and forth 

Until unavailing quarrels would commence between the people of my head.

All I’d have is my consciousness.

For all I’d know, that’d be the only thing that exists.

Luckily though, I have five windows

All with values that reach equilibrium.

They balance eachother out, 

Granting me the perception I need to feel at home.

I glance out the earlobe 

And heed the soft creaks and sways of the house in a strong gale

I peak out of the nostril 

And notice the way the pungent fragrance of my mom’s perfume

 Disperses throughout the car in seconds.

I gaze through the cornea

And notice the greens and blues of the belt’s geometrical pattern 

I inspect the tongue

And realize how the blueberries smaller in size tend to be acidic

I turn my attention to the skin,

And note how the tickling yarn of my knit sweater makes me itch.

With my five windows

 The world I am no stranger to.

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