Les Yeux Sans Visage

I cast my sheets aside, twist my body in the dark, and beyond the window ledge, looming eyes watch over me. Green and burning - fiendish? I know not, though they seem too great to be human, and all else fades away. Pitch black, yet, still, there is the moon. I strain my eyes to see, but not even the glimmer of form. Just two eyes suspended near in space. So close I freeze in terror, yet I know not why I fear. For surely they can only see me. What horror, then, is that? If those eyes had a voice, their whisper would seem a shout to me. Their motive will always be lost; but to be watched - ah! Fear, and desire, and ... purpose 25 August 2019