Dark eyes circumvent the feelings. Dodging, ducking, chasing. I’ve seen it before, I’ll see it again, dark eyes on lonely nights running on rooftops and along crumbling tops of wild old walls long since overgrown with forest. Dark eyes hopping into sailboats, one hand on the ropes and a matchbox in the other. Dark eyes setting fire to the ocean wake behind them and pray the wind behind that line blows the fire back and that the wind beyond that line blows favorably into their sails. Who are you, dark eyes, to think the wind blows two different ways for you? You fly and hop on bleached white shores and the clouds roll in and you open your arms to greet the acid rain. Chin up, eyes closed, mouth open and let the storm hit. Dark eyes build castles in the clouds and from there pity us on earth. Dark eyes, you can never stop running on broken sidewalks and climbing through carved in trees. You’re pulled in circles but at every dead end, there’s something new.
February 5, 2012