Surface

The pane was polished far too well,

A trap of light and silent air.

I walked right in and then I fell

Before my own bewildered stare.

My nose began a slow, red leak,

The carpet drank the sudden copper.

I found the words but couldn't speak,

An apology felt right and proper.

I left a smudge of oil and skin,

A ghost of where my head had been.