The Eye

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The Eye

 

“These little eyes of mine have seen such big thing!” -my great grandmother

 

I wish I was an eye large enough

to wash the pain of the world with my tears,

 

A witness to all of our existence as it is born,

grows,

lives,

loves,

dies.

 

An eye strong enough to stare the pain of the world into recognition,

acceptance,

dissolution.

 

An eye that stares the sun into blindness:

looking at you until the distance between

seeing and sight

becomes nothing.

 

My “I” is a mirror, reflecting your beauty.

 

 

 

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