I’ve lost mine,
so I seek
the shine in your eyes.
Can’t seem to find
my sacred gleam,
so I need
the reflection in yours.
That subtle light
you’ve tucked away.
Hollow souls need harmless lies,
and you my love,
have left me craving more.
More of what you say I am,
your words define my form.
With every breath,
I’ve learned to be
through the living mirror before.
I began by echoing her existence,
making sense of self,
so she’d whisper recognition.
My mother gave me the shine in my eyes,
but I went and dismissed it.
Drifting further into ominous isolation,
I survive, not in grief,
but wielding a weary penchant for life.
Sinking into ambiguity,
I still search for the lost shine in my eyes.
I’ve spent my days
gliding the blade
beyond the nape
of thoughtless creatures,
or so they seem,
wondering why some get to wait,
while others will be set free.
Does my solipsism
grant me, judge,
of their perfect imperfections?
Not once in their short lives
did I think they might have
a subtle shine in their eyes.
And so I cut them out,
not thinking twice, with my swift knife,
leaving them to drain and bleed.
They found life in company,
yet lost their lives to innocent greed.
What does that make of me?
What does that say of you?
Is every interaction
yet another selfish deed.
Will I be your companion,
or will I be your feed?
When it is all for one,
and one minute before the next,
we crave presence for what presence is,
an oasis for the unaddressed.
I spin in a world devoid of context,
cycling through speculative perceptions,
my mind will never rest,
until I find
the shine in your eyes,
so I can find myself again
before I am buried beneath clay mounds
made of my words and my shells,
semblances of that self left underground.
Unearthed until now
when I see the shine in your eyes.
I’ve found rest in your reassurance before my demise.
I jest in my cold occurrence, and realize
I’ve found the heavenly communion of the formless
while searching for the shine in your eyes.
