Masked Window

I hold in my hand, a little window
Through which I can see everything and, yet, nothing at all

I peer into the eyes of a masked stranger
Who is looking straight back at me
The eyes so meloncholy
And the smiling, mask so happy

It doesn't fool me
I can see that it is fake
Nothing more than a glued-on, cut-out
From unmentioned fears

I hand the window to you
"Look at the mask."
"What mask?" you say
"All I see is myself."

I take the window back
Study it for awhile
The mask becoming transparent
I notice that the stranger is me

The window, not a window at all
But, in fact, a mirror
How could I be so blind?

Why, window, did you have to become my effigy?
My little mirror.