Illusory Correlation
The shadow of the world—Pours in my eyes—
An inky blackness—To fill my dilated pupils—
To cover the ephemeral flashes—With colors—
The kaleidoscopic kind—Stained mirror glass—
My eyelids close—Clattering over them—
Smearing the atramentous penumbras—Like a fumage—
I write a charcoal line—Until it leaks and drips—
As an oil over sensations—That crash into the waves they are—
Outside the aperture of my sight—Clouding in the fog—
Of subconscious misunderstanding—Is my eclipsing iris—
Folding with its lens—As it snaps to trap light—
From the binding blindness—Of asymmetrical blotting—
Tainting the white—By cracking shatters of veins—
And clotting, jaundiced pigments—Of muted behavior—
This youthful, opaque perception—Is an abstruse, open, invisible window—
With its melting shards of broken glass—Cutting through—
What I thought—
Would puncture you—
What I thought—
You'd see—
poem by Tim Stensloff
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
