occasionally, face to face, eye to eye
I look over and I see someone
who is alone behind their eyes
whatever their inner dialogue
their lips are sealed from any saying
there is no levity in their mind mix
a look at them is a stare back received
any conversation of directness to them
is bluntness peppering their darkness
if their life is a riddle, it is without resolve
everything facing forward is reality on demand
the world is endlessly knocking on their door
even by absence or dismissal, there is hammering
oh if eyes could be callouses from over worldly use
there can’t be a stare down of joy or merit
for the welcome matt only has the appearance
of a closed front door without entry as possible
alone behind the eyes is steadfast and migratory
all possible meetings are limited, wet from inner tears
all kindlings from relationships have been burned
stone faced is now a form of self accompaniment
they hurt me with the mirror image presented back
not that they’re trying, but they are trying
this should not be the case with anyone
your eyes should broadcast the light of your being
be windows to the soul forthcoming
in search of harmonics that bless and refine
check back there again, it’s not a missing person’s file
please give self love a chance
no audience needed just self
floating amidst a sea of self love . . .
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