The difference is plane

I can feel it slipping away,
Can’t you see it?
I’m trying so, so hard,
So very hard.
To cross this difference of planes.
But this task seems doomed to begin with.
I’m here, right?
And you’re over there.
So that means…
That means…
You.
Can’t.
Hear…
Me?
Ha. Ha. Ha.
It seems we’ve stumbled upon one of those WORLD-CHANGING discoveries!
That no one wants to look at.
Well,
I suppose the best we’ve gotten too,
Is shoving ourselves into the practice of crafting dolls,
From our best guesses at what our neighbors look like.
We’ll blow them full of air,
And they’ll blow it right back at us.
We’ll sleep and they’ll throw their almost-frozen clay bodies atop us.
And we’ll try real hard,
So, so hard.
To forget…
That we made ‘you’.

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