Mark Van Steenwyk
It stung when my eyelids
slid off
carried away in a flow of tears and blood
slid off
carried away in a flow of tears and blood
welling in my mind
and spilling from my eyes.
Moonlight glimmers into my pained gaze
to dance on my soul’s dark pool.
Down, deep through
forgotten caverns–
there a pale fish swims
with white scales
and its own lidless eyes
that see strange things lurking
in that murky place.
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