From a distance
Nathaniel Braswell
At times, staring out of a dirty window is like scorning at heaven.
Every night, I watch as low-hanging canopies of crowning amber
Recognize the stars,
Previewing the canvass
On which darkness will paint tonight’s universe.
I sit, aggressively indifferent, and yet alive.
Screaming at least is breathing.
And outside, the sky looms over us, but is only temporary,
Like a mountain that loses its magic once climbed.
You say, “I am what I make myself!”
But the mirror stares back at you with crystalline indifference.
A symposium of escape.
Every night, I watch as low-hanging canopies of crowning amber
Recognize the stars,
Previewing the canvass
On which darkness will paint tonight’s universe.
I sit, aggressively indifferent, and yet alive.
Screaming at least is breathing.
And outside, the sky looms over us, but is only temporary,
Like a mountain that loses its magic once climbed.
You say, “I am what I make myself!”
But the mirror stares back at you with crystalline indifference.
A symposium of escape.
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Nathaniel is a double major in PPE and Cognitive Science with a love for the mind and a few words to write about it. (Claremont McKenna College '23)
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