i see your eyes staring at my own…

i see your eyes staring at my own
am i looking at the inside
or merely beautifully made curtains
thin enough only only to know
someone left the light on
but unsure as to what’s happening
leery to take the next step
pull the shade aside
and peer into the living room
will words ever tell the whole story
or will actions contradict the fairy tale
told to everyone
do the cinderalla dreams
always start after midnight
certainty so boldly displayed
has now been torn down and destroyed
leaving behind the soul
with a label saying “FRAGILE”
will any hands be gentle enough
to caress this one of a kind artpiece
and tend to it forever
and not become tired of its beauty
waiting for an answer
the questioning is paused
as i walk away from the mirror