Back to the shoreline, you stroked
with reverent fingers, weathered
wet and cold between the eyes
My sisters came and picked my bones
Caused salty scratches to the skin
A public nakedness for all to see
Soon forgotten as the earth passed
Tag: Eyes
Razored
Above Kite Hill, you searched for the right breeze.
I waited, my manjha ready to cut.
Below, an assembly clapped and cheered
As a million eyes were averted
By sordid headlines and Sunday lattes.