It's All in the Eyes

Sincere Soul-Window Scribbles

It's All in the Eyes

My maverick memory has marked

Many sets of eyes

Eyes I've missed for long enough that I only remember them as blue

And oft resignedly forlorn

Eyes like roasted chestnuts

Warm and laughing until a flame dies

Only green when glazed over with sleep

And in rage and other passions, red-black

Flint-hard and coal-hot

Eyes like the North Pacific

Diluted with winter

Deep and simple, open and shielded

The smallest windows with frosted glass

Huge, dark, rich, wet puppy-dog eyes

Eyes that can hide nothing

And wouldn't want to

Brimming with compassion

Overladen, overwhelming

Glistening chocolate spheres

Melt me with your empathy

Eyes like warm, clear tropical waters

Magical liquid light-eating shapeshifters

Comforting, compelling—idealized

There are new traps in these seabeds

Earnest, grinning, troubled, composed

For many virtues have I liked many gazes

And learned, though not enough,

From the impenetrable holes in cherished faces

performance poetry
Violet P. Davies
Violet P. Davies
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Violet P. Davies

Words make me feel fulfilled occasionally.

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