Why I Can’t Draw Your Eyes

The sudden--
fleshless-- pucker
of a blue
the blue of dead men’s soles curled tight
around hamster-wheels of light

(beyond which
you know only small things
like when to hide)

slants my pen
against the grain of your eye,
forcing awkward impromptus:

Look, it’s a cave, now,
etched deep into the intestines
of a heavy-lidded hill