The common saying…the eyes the window to the soul. Looking in, or looking out? Looking out, I see myself…the me I see that is to me the picture I present to thee. Can never truly see through lenses dusty with greasy dirty thoughts and fingerprints left by the ones who thought they saw you but only saw themselves, tiny and lost, trying to see through their own dirt and dust and prints. Back and forth you both go, you and the world, blur to blur, gaze to gaze. Intensity of stare, trying to see through smeary ghosts of the past, is mistaken for passion, for interest, when simple myopia of the soul is to blame.