You hold my eyes in your
hand. Now cradling them against
each other, now jostling them
bouncily. We need us, but neither you
nor I can say why.
The distance between us is exquisite.
Who will be the first to cross? I know
that in my heart, there is
a secret chamber, that pumps
but secrets. And you are on the lips
of every one. Every secret I have
- either yours to have, or a secret
about you. Your love of me is a bribe, but
it's not enough to get me my eyes back. This
poem is going nowhere right. And you
- are on the lips of everyone. And I hang
my head in judgment, a self-tied noose
tightening about my self-tied neck,
while you sit astride the horse that will pull
away my footstool, and jostle bouncily.
I need perspective on what I have
to offer you. In this situation, it seems to me
that I am the one holding all the cards.
But you've got my eyes. You've got my eyes, darling.
What's up with that.
A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.
Try the RANDOM button, to sample the sometimes surprising breadth of quality (and in several Novembers, breathtaking quantity as well), or click the "ANY GOOD" label* for those poems labeled with it. On any poem, old or new, feel free to offer your remarkable insight or critical acumen.
*I haven't yet revisited many pockets and stretches of time to appraise and label the "any goods," so some are missing. Please feel free to point out omissions, or - especially - erroneous inclusions, in comments.