The Mirrors have Eyes

I am a wandering question
No pressure of an impending answer
I lie unfulfilled.
No reason to grow.

That's what they wanted of me;
Rather it,
The system
Starting and ending with one.

Rivers and tributaries splay parallel
Paws swallowed up by the landscape.
The secret is this: I am not special.
The light that connects us is information
Failing, weak, lost after contact.

Our mirrored bodies have
Eyes that fail to see
Boundaries
Between my claws and the earth
When all we see is ourselves
In the eyes of each other.

I am waiting for an echo.
I am waiting for an answer.
I am waiting for an echo of the answer
I am waiting
For anything.