the last time I saw

next on the left

we all watched in surprise

let’s take a look

couldn’t believe my eyes



want to see

more clearly, pluck these little synthetic discs out

from under my eyelids and still be able

to trace every leaf on the trees

down the street.  I’m no Cassandra,

wasn’t cursed with a vision brighter than anyone’s

burning eyes can bear, though

maybe I rubbed that sand into my cornea a little too hard

back when I was four and had to take a trip

from the sandbox to the ER.  maybe I’m a bit oblivious

or slow to catch on sometimes, but I’d like to share a glimpse

of what it is you see in me

that makes you want to call and write

late-night facebook messages, why you noticed

of all things, these imperfect eyes

the last time I saw you