When I Think Of Him Poem by noel maddock

His eyes won’t often come to mind
His ears select a careful sound
Yet have a tendency to burn
His nose sharpens by the hour
And cavalier his tongue

When I think of him
His eyes now more opaque
The back that bends but will not bow
Hands decanting their emotions
In whose fingers interlocking something breaks

Can I even think of him
Who lives a universe beyond the Milky Way?
Within his eyes new stars are born
They burn his iris bluish grey
Way beyond the palette of his sex or self
Out there, where only non sequiturs hold sway