notes to myself, part IV

My eyes are not lazy, they’re just tired.

Of flinching and flickering, fighting desire.

They tighten, look fast, go haywire,

At a resting point lost in space of crosswires.

They’re restless, not resting, don’t mistake the liar

For a statute of honesty, they’re a statue for hire.

Sending code, staccatos of Morse, they misfire,

Receiving dead silence of walls growing higher.

And so now they stare, beware, but admire,

They dilate and open into a hot fire.

Whose flames they reflect, but require

To absorb the heat, like bullets in gunfire.

Don’t mistake, their emptiness, as taste acquired,

They’re full of regrets, of answers uninquired.

Come, look me in the eyes, sink in the quagmire,

I promise to look back, to let go, to perspire.