Eyelids Poem by James McLain

Out of the desert.
Where on the way,
by it you stopped.
For a drink of red heat.
It is not visible I think.

Boredom,
I feel before until.
Forked it's long tongue.
Touches,
the eye lids to my world.

My world of black days,
and white star filled nights.
Where it never stopped,
to open with time eye socket.

Boredom did not stop me.
And I, call it he,
does that I do
As for the night lizard.
When it touches,
the eye lids to my world.
Boredom leaves.
Both worlds seem to open.