For the dverse prompt. Peer pressure. It’s a funny thing, but as you get older, it tends to disappear when you stop paying attention to it.
What is a peer?
What is a peer,
mon frère, mon semblable,
but a face in the mirror,
a likeness, a seeming,
and what is a likeness
but a superficial similarity,
a flash of recognition
in a deep pool, where
we pass without touching,
fish in a running river,
mirror scales glinting,
reflecting the same sky,
dark as the same glass,
and in the same sky, the birds flock
for me, but not for you, who squint
behind closed shutters,
and all of these peers,
who live in the same dark fold
of the same dark hills,
have nothing in common
with me.