Eyes slide through the light into darkness
a glass pane, the lone sentry between them
like a polished shield casting medusa in stone.

From within the light, music plays;
literal – metaphorical,
the sounds hold hands and dance about the space.

The light shines bright, inside.

A glow that blankets each expressive face,
as they contort and twist around the words exchanged,
eagerly snatching at unseen shadows.

Outside, where these same shadows reign supreme,
the faces are concealed, maligned in night,
longing for, shamefully, that steady blaze.

The light shines bright, inside.

A glass pane severing them from the night,
there can be no telling what lies outside –
only bright moments reflected from this side.

The darkness is there though, still;
a quiet cancer whispering only a thin sheet away,
no one looks at, no one speaks about –

and the light shines bright, inside.