Experiment – Left Eye Operation

The muscles around this eye cause the last thing to be said
to come out as a question mark – the lazy visit the pupils
dole out to the corners of the sockets (the linoleum), and back to the face (the exit)
before they make the person start another conversation unwanted in this
tight space of looking back at each other
the scalpel, never on hand, aches invisible on the bed where
you got up and swore today would be different
acid’s kiss along the nape of your neck where the eyes can’t reach
the left one blinks slower, just behind the right
like a cat taking its time to saunter toward its napping place
near its own choices
it looked at me the same way you’re looking at me
starting another conversation
I think we should have
back to the linoleum where I pull my pants up from around my ankles
never smooth but my actions, unlike my eyes
tell a story without stuttering once
I’ll see you later
your eyes manage, “when?” before the door prize
is captured (how slick and cool the knob feels on my hand!)

Photo by Joshua Wilking on Unsplash