I sense the gaze upon me.
Silent, still, unmoving.
Caring not that I have noticed it
No change. No Quarter.
If there is malice, it is well veiled
behind eyes unblinking.
I am but an object.
Considered.
Regarded.
Studied.
To what end? To What purpose?
The gaze does not answer.
It never answers.
I become one with the silence
But it’s embrace does not shield me.
I move from light to shadow
The darkness does not cloak me
I can only confront it.
‘Hey!, Knock it off!’, I say.
The gaze is broken.
The gazer now wants to be petted.
Stupid cat.