For You, the person on the other side of the Dark Glass

When I was a little girl I use to put my finger tip on the mirror and would peer intently at the point between my finger and my reflection. The space between reality and reflection. It seemed like it held a multitude of shadows, blocked out by my single digit. A space apart yet part of the picture.

I think of that space sometimes, and secretly press my finger to a shower fogged glass or a newly windex'ed mirror just to see that it still exists. When I do it's like I am connecting somehow to that point between, that Neither Land.

You mentioned a Dark Glass, a lyrical reference, but an image of that secret space between. And I knew that we were sisters somehow. Bound by similar and dissimilar. I heard you friend. I hope that brings you comfort.