Sunken

What happened to the girl I fell in love with?
She used to shrink any space between us
with a smile that turned eye contact
into a mouth-to-mouth staring contest.
That spooky action at a distance
makes a heart panic
that the blood it pumps
so vigorously
is going nowhere.
It wouldn't kill you, but you could die.

She made me realize that eyes
are the limbs of the heart.
Ready to touch and to hold
but also to claw and restrain.
A serious face manifests red horns
with narrowed eyes and a fixated gaze.
A smile doesn't help.

But it's so easy to love someone with fire in their eyes.

For we are wind, a force that wills the flame
to burn and wicks the flickering tendrils high.
And yet, we never fear that we are fuel;
that our departure leads to smoldering coals.

Her eyes no longer fill their sockets.
They sit in otherwise vacant depressions:
caves waiting for a new occupant
to collect the final quanta of kindling
and render them empty with a spark.
Her limbs have atrophied and are no longer able
to induce a murmur from across the room,
instead curling inward, desperate
to provide the warmth
of another's eyes.




Inspired by "Sunk! (Just Like Her)" by my good friend Shaman Jones.