You stare at what is in front of you, your gaze wide—what you see is a sweep of light and shade, and colors and shapes, one of which is a face staring at you, while you blink, it doesn’t—you inhale as if to take in all that’s visible, including the face in the mirror, your exhalation is full of you—the seer merges with the seen, dissolving the separation, and all that’s left is what’s being seen: a face, eyes open, unblinking.

Bio: Eugene Datta