Reach

I hear you as though I am beneath water struggling to make out the important parts,
My eyes, a shielded grey, see you only through murky darkness.
A silver screen. Terrible dreams. A burnt out porch light lonely for its purpose.
When words become murmurs,
Eyes become spotlights
And worry sets in with compromising  detail.
I wonder if I'm less appealing in the daylight,
Exposed in true colours,
Not filtered by the usual florescent lights.