I have a picture of your eye in my wallet,
The converse of a large church in Russia.
It is a very nice eye. Sometimes I take it out
And look at your eye to pretend we are seeing
In parallel. I am rife with non-portable skills,
So this kind of thinking plays well in my hands.
Makes me think of movie music from
From early 1980’s movies, a time when nothing was
Really that good, when I was 7 and watched TV
With a respect not often found in youth.
It reminds me of someplace safe, a good day
From a long time ago when the sun seemed warmer
And the days slightly more golden than now.
Everything seems better when remembered backwards
Because we forget the bad things on purpose.
If we didn’t, we’d stub our toes on invisible curbs and fall asleep
On sidewalks and never get up, become food for worms
And larvae with higher aspirations.
This little card makes me think of that. A special,
Happy place of freedom that won’t go away
Even one day if it does. And your hands, which
I have never touched, but imagine are very soft.