Woodlice
When I walk in
you are sat
with arms crossed
loosely
watching
two woodlice,
one trailing behind
too slow to keep up.
The light bulb,
too white
for a cosy
living room,
is naked
without
its lamp shade
and it reflects
in your eyes,
a tiny white dot
like a lone star
in the night sky.
Is it ridiculous
to say that
eyes are like mouths
because yours
are open right now.
Copyright © Si Iq | Year Posted 2021
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