Those eyes are meant for starless nights. A mere blink, ensued by a droplet in the vast sea. The polluted sea, maybe. The ripples are disobedient, like a child throwing a tantrum on the ground, howling and pleading, howling and pleading, for overdue attention that none asked for.

The tangency is sheltered, shielded from the outside, yielded to the demons in secrecy. The ripples remold into the tangency, unleashed from the mind, whispering those blackened impulses from the inside to the out, spoiling the innocence.

The fiends are screaming as they probe the possibilities. The startling asteroids vanish into the void, where they collide with the moon. The flares are gone now, replaced by the obtuse ripples that refuse to compromise.

The blind would halt this blinking.

Those ripples shall be stifled.