This is a very complex poem. It starts in a very shallow place asking if a pair of sunglasses are right for the poet. It breaks down the elements of the style of the glasses nitpicking each detail. I thought okay so why am I reading this. It really didn't seem to have any intrinsic value to the questioning. Then the poem shifted and went deeper than lense deep.

The poet asked, "Is this really me?" I was prepared to go down another shallow rabbit hole but no, the poet began questioning the very elements of themselves. Should they be this or that. Are they this or that. Are they things that they really want or need to change somehow? It was shockingly deep compared to the first half of the poem. It had me questioning myself about these things mainly asking myself to try to put myself in the place the poet was in. Identity confusion is no laughing matter.