Wednesday, March 2, 2016
Through My Eyes
Look through my face and actualise
Acids and bases forming on the cheeks;
I can spoil a surprise, my eyes squirm
Hardly when you scream as a pie in height.
I have told directly below a recipe for life,
Faces angrily see the foxes you must see,
Shoulders will keep alphabets, seek laughter,
As the bedroom furniture cracks and looms.
My house is cracking, forming, and collapsing,
Poor light enters the little room, pressing anger
With floating beasts, that is for the eye,
And that is for the face or soul.
Look through my eyes and set into little boredom,
You mustn't move! Don't touch the crinkling,
And work hard to respire forming yellow anger.
I have a cool pair of hands, slipping away,
Telling this undoes this, for the hands are a moment
Topic(s) of this poem: eyes