Your Eyes

                                        For Matt.


A clear stream                      I am drowning—
winding through                    I am flying:
a humid glen.                        a red parachute,
Sapphire jewels                    and an orange life
gleaming under                      jacket cascades
florescent bulbs.                    over the falls, like the
Soft azure sheets                  siphon sun slipping
freshly folded                        down rusted gutters
in a linen cabinet.                  during a hard rain.
A cerulean vase                    I no longer
on top of an ivory                  struggle—drying
mantle. An ocean                  driftwood bones
view from the                        swaying in the air.
Maldives—                            The slick sharp of
Limpet shells in                      the smalt rocks
a spray of                              underneath me
white foam.                            dulling their peaks.


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