Between the Floors

The doors slide shut and cut the world

into a box of brushed steel walls.

I’m safe for twenty seconds here

away from eyes and meeting calls.

I pull a face, I check my teeth,

I bug my eyes out at the roof.

The cable stutters, stops a beat,

and I freeze up, the living proof

of how I’m scared of being seen

just being human, being weird.

I check the convex mirror’s dome

where my whole head is stretched and smeared.