The Infinity Mirror Looks Back

Looking at me— what does one see? A man of mean height middle aged middle-classed 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 brown of my irises – gathering an orange sun of June under my eyelids Spring of blossoms breaking grey pavements Your gaze laid in mine—a heartbeat longer than strictly necessary The shoulders of my spiral spin faster and shudder Scattered rings of laughter crackle in new born suns Floating in blazing black coffee And always - Her name—Harriet – cosmic background singing The whole spaced In breath My bright raw galaxy Looking back at— yours