Eyes that watch
with passion blending with the majesty of vision, providing remembrance with a cause.
Eyes that damp, for they watch no more from time to time but simply see,
as if they could have seen everything
all along from the beginning, giving oblivion an excuse.
Eyes that follow lines, infusing into the arms the prudence
to enclose diversity into everlasting shapes.
Eyes that glow, and like stars, embroider the skin of night
in a language that’s dreamt though not disremembered
by the morning disillusion.
Eyes, anchors of the soul ship!
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