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.