Through the frosted glass.

Texture from Photoscape

I took this through the frosted glass on my back door.


Frosted Glass, a poem by Cis's-faux-nom

Catch a glimpse

Out of the corner of an eye.

Fleeting, don't linger

Move on with the lie.

To turn and look,

Would be a sin.

Satisfying the part of me

That must not win.

To see you like that

I'm told is wrong.

So I push the urge away,

But for how long?

You are always there

Tempting a slip of tongue,

An ounce of the truth,

For which I'd be hung.

Because through frosted glass,

A distorted view,

Is the only way society

Will let me see you.