both your eyes
are perceptible.
Commandingly so.
Unstoppably
perceptible.
When you lock a dude
like me in the eyes with
those, he begins to gawp
helplessly like a fish
punched through the mouth
by a huge skyhook swung
with the force of a wrecking
ball, waft in the psychic eyelight
your doubly-barreled perceptible gaze
wings in zephyrs to whoever's bold
enough to meet that I-beam midswing.
It's like getting a steel girder right in the mind
at approximately a thirty story velocity
fallen from atop the construction site. Where
all such thoughts are forged
and put up.
No building like that can hold
up long under the kind, soft, loving
and permissive gaze of those eyes
of yours. Moss-green sacramental discs
of implied grey, gold flickers caught
in stopped time.
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