Eye

You said You had questions
as the sun broke free of morning
spinning like a compass pin
someplace far too north

We spoke words too freely
and democratically denied it
grinning like holy tourists
grazing souvenirs

You turned one eye to me
and pinched away an almond tear
They liked Your noisy breathing
and pulled You closer

there were answers on Your eyes when They broke;
glittering symbiotes and moons, bright.


- I wrote this just for one of the SF trips so this could've been around 2000 I suppose. Hard to tell these days.