tarnish (My first poem)

[sansysans]

Any and all feedback is welcome!

toddling, touching, the room is mine
with window shut and sunlight scattered,
less gold than bronze,
across a veil of dust

I meet Myself;
He lifts the pane,
and the motes,
they settle

sitting, staring, must We share?
I feel the chill
and see the tarnish;
compact and cramped is this cage

Forget Myself.
I cannot bear.
Shut the window.
I'll return to my dust.