Honeyeater eyes

I have honeyeater eyes, sometimes

Diluted pupils wide like the eyelashed galaxies of a giraffe's.

Peculiar when questioning silences

They surround me in their sublime unity.

In the quiet I wait for the piercing of voices, laughs.

Daydreams of onions and firecracker sparks confuse my

Mind's eye in it's quest for an ultimate erosion of smiles.

It's fine.

My racing car drivers have a track inside me that will guide their recklessness

Their careless spiralling across the arms and legs with which I exist.

While my ego snacks on grapes among a crowd of seasoned gladiator champions

There's a moment of patient humming from the universe I'm surrounded by.

They blink, wink, then cry.

And I cry with them.

~