Does my eye offend you? Should I roll it down the hill…
Should I wear an iron mask or warn you with a bell?
In quarantine, I stay unseen — I still know how to feel.
And though you never touch me, I am sure nothing ever touches you.
You’ve no need to defend your actions I can understand.
My mirror wept «surrender», so I threw in both my hands,
Before I just conceded I can’t figure in your plans.
Though I’ll never touch you, you’ll be sure nothing ever touches me.
I shrivel when the sun comes out, I cry beneath the moon.
You’ll find me in a long lost alley, hiding in my «room».
But don’t you dare come near me cos I don’t know what I’ll do…
If someone ever touched me, maybe I could just consider touching you…
