Looking at me—
what does one see?
A man
of mean height
middle aged
medi-terra-né
My brown eyes are too common
to be pretty
My lips too full
of words
I have beauty spots for gaze to rest
My accent speaks–
with power– borrowed
with love– a beautiful prejudice.
and my image flickers
between
your eyes unsure
which
should register
Look at me–
what do you see?
looking you
looking me,
looking through
The glass in our eyes—
reflecting—refracting
seeing you—seeing me
seeing you
Look at me —
do you see?
the singing parts
forged in the heart of stars—
scattered.
Energies made matter to bond
in my flesh
and the tip
of my eyelash –
Look in me,
Below
my skin and my marrow
closer—
revolving
around a lonely black hole
In the olive of my belly button
I stretch
my tongue
and the tip of my fingers
into coiled springs snapping
To constrict
This spineless
loneliness
Calling for more
I strain the fibres in my arms
Into the lines of my irises – my common brown woven into light
I open my eyes gathering momentum outside:
Holding the blinding sun of June
Wrapped under orange eyelids
speckled with flaring white
In the surge of blossoms breaking the greys cutting the skies blue
In the gaze you are laying in mine—a heartbeat longer than strictly necessary
The shoulders of my spiral shudder
Scattered rings
of laughter crackle
Memories stored for winters burst in blinding suns—
Sublimed Air—kilometres compressed into my lungs, hurled through my legs
Luminous swirls — Jupiter storms fallen in my blazing black coffee cupped
And always - Her name—Harriet – cosmic background whisper holding
The whole spaced
In breath
The black back to a point.
My bright raw galaxy
Looking back at—
yours
what does one see?
A man
of mean height
middle aged
medi-terra-né
My brown eyes are too common
to be pretty
My lips too full
of words
I have beauty spots for gaze to rest
My accent speaks–
with power– borrowed
with love– a beautiful prejudice.
and my image flickers
between
your eyes unsure
which
should register
Look at me–
what do you see?
looking you
looking me,
looking through
The glass in our eyes—
reflecting—refracting
seeing you—seeing me
seeing you
Look at me —
do you see?
the singing parts
forged in the heart of stars—
scattered.
Energies made matter to bond
in my flesh
and the tip
of my eyelash –
Look in me,
Below
my skin and my marrow
closer—
revolving
around a lonely black hole
In the olive of my belly button
I stretch
my tongue
and the tip of my fingers
into coiled springs snapping
To constrict
This spineless
loneliness
Calling for more
I strain the fibres in my arms
Into the lines of my irises – my common brown woven into light
I open my eyes gathering momentum outside:
Holding the blinding sun of June
Wrapped under orange eyelids
speckled with flaring white
In the surge of blossoms breaking the greys cutting the skies blue
In the gaze you are laying in mine—a heartbeat longer than strictly necessary
The shoulders of my spiral shudder
Scattered rings
of laughter crackle
Memories stored for winters burst in blinding suns—
Sublimed Air—kilometres compressed into my lungs, hurled through my legs
Luminous swirls — Jupiter storms fallen in my blazing black coffee cupped
And always - Her name—Harriet – cosmic background whisper holding
The whole spaced
In breath
The black back to a point.
My bright raw galaxy
Looking back at—
yours