Gloves

I used to wear gloves in High School. Then as now, they were a barrier to the aether. Now, they take a different form. Lately, my gloves are mine, so much mine that nobody else can see them. They cover my hands in something halfway between velvet and oil. As the evil spreads on my hands, the gloves hide the taint from my own eyes, but not the eyes of others. I want my old gloves back sometimes; they were real to everyone.

I see people avoiding me. I wonder if it's the gloves.