Between the Gulper Eel and the Blackbird

Unaffectionate to them I would say.
You are being euphemistic; it’s cold,
somewhat unreachable.
The white fluffs obstruct, they restrict.
And you enjoy it this way-
The very way you enjoy those blurring lines as you sway-
And as you leap too, pushing back them wings.

I see soles, they have many colours.
I see hair, they have many colours but Do you find the windows?
Jet Black, Chestnut, Sapphire against White, but
Do you find the windows?
I search, sometimes strands cover, sometimes-
I could almost see but the glass obstructs.
They way you want it,
As the way you soar further.

We’re identical, in more ways than one.
We are, We all are.