Beholder

My eyes are most comfortable
on the floor
where my words find footing
tautological traction
treaded till I walk blind

The sky is my second choice
clouds I can shape
into convenient distractions
ink blots open
to collective interpretation

Anything but your face
where I’m liable to get lost
in creases of your smile
increasingly pronounced
with age

And your eyes
reflecting pools
where I share a selfish look
a love
meant for me and you

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