I
hang around a pond
and
the pond becomes a lake,
and
I swim in this lake
that
is your pupils
I
realize I can't swim
as
well as I thought,
so
I tread there-
treading
softly and eyeing
the
shores of your irises,
flashings
of colorful delight
I'm
in deep waters-
deep
black undulating,
Moving
slightly, here and there,
widening
and widening,
swallowing
me whole,
or
maybe just the part of me
that
had any sense of time,
place,
context
And
I drown-
until
one day
my
body will be found
somewhere
deep below the glossy
surfaces
of the watery glass
of
your eyes
Unable
to be recovered
in
such a deep well
by
anyone else,
but
one who could
equally
have
channeled
into
the chasm of my
once
and future
gorge-ous,
gorging
pupils.
