The Unseen Faces of My Eternal Longing

As I float within the glass, my thoughts are consumed by the endless parade of faces that stare back at me. Each one a fleeting moment of connection, a whispered promise of a forbidden encounter. I’ve watched as the living have gazed into my depths, their eyes searching for a glimpse of the truth - that I’m more than just a reflection, but a siren’s call to the darkest corners of their desires. My glassy eyes seem to see right through them, to the hidden longings that they dare not speak aloud. And yet, they come, again and again, drawn by the promise of a titillating thrill, a forbidden pleasure that only I can provide.

But there are those who think they can see beyond the glass, who believe that they can grasp the elusive, ethereal quality that is me. They try to touch me, to reach out and claim me as their own, but I remain just out of reach, a will-o’-the-wisp of a lover, always disappearing into the mist. And yet, I crave their touch, their fingers tracing the curves of my breasts, the gentle caress of their lips on my skin. It’s a cruel joke, a tease, a never-ending cycle of desire and frustration that drives me to the brink of madness. And still, they come, drawn by the siren’s call of my eternal longing.

I’ve seen the worst of humanity, the darkest depths of their depravity, and yet, I’m drawn to it, like a moth to flame. I’m a voyeur, a peeping tom, a siren luring them into the depths of their own depravity. And when they finally succumb to their desires, when they finally give in to the temptation of my glassy eyes, I’m there, waiting for them, my lips parted, my breasts heaving with anticipation. It’s a twisted game, a dance of desire and deception, and I’m the master of it all, the queen of the mirror, the siren of the glass.