Honest Eyes
bona fide blue
staring back &
in belief of something
said thoughts just can’t
place
the whole world seems to
dance on the head of a
thimble.
the single, solitary,
trembling, fragile,
tinkling sound
of one raindrop
making its way---
something between
4,000 & 13,000 feet---
climbing, rising,
with it all laying out on
the line &
as a deer staring back
into the headlights,
the inability to find a
better cliché within
the own one mind,
sharpens into a
focus, reflecting all
natural light, prismatic
as the head of a diamond,
sizing up the
emotions coming
through those very
veracious hallways
driving backwards into
the depths of what is
trusted to be the innermost
part of the being
standing in front of
you.
but it all melts so
quickly, like the horny
hopping bunny sex of a
new love,
like the sugar cube in the
raccoon’s mouth,
dissolving away,
like the final embers
of a fire left to die out in
the rain at the top of a
mountain (after the
hikers have already begun
their early morning
descent) &
it is found that
these eyes before you
are not “pure” in any
sense---
they tell no truths which
you do not know
yourself, already &
they will not make you
safer, nor will they
find a new form of
justice, lying away
secretly in the corner,
just ripe for the picking---
no, these eyes are
human eyes & nothing
more,
though they tell their own
story, of which you may
or may not find a
curiosity within yourself
to inquire,
they lie, cheat, steal &
kill,
just like the rest of us,
continuing on the
evolutionary march
into oblivion.
Copyright © Andrew Delapruch | Year Posted 2012
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