You gaze
In a distracted way,
Your thoughts
Unknown to those
Who study you
From close or far;
So conjecture
Is the only tool
At hand
To venture
What your thoughts
Were to some degree,
Although that is bound
To be wrong
And far from thoughts
That you held then
As you gazed
From the camera lens
Unconcerned for what
Or by whom
As if something
Captured your thoughts,
Maybe another
Across the room
That unknown day,
Or thoughts of play,
Or maybe an echo
Of some coming doom.
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