My eyes have
made small islands in their sea
that float between me
and what I want to be there,
all desired clear
but now obscured,
invisible for what they are,
and never heard.
Palm trees instead of paragraphs,
not faces, forms, but homemade rafts
drifting across a wavy film, not words,
but blind reality.
posted for Meeting the Bar
at dVerse Poets
Images: Clouds In Finland, 1908 © Konrad Kryzanowski, Public Domain
Boat, c.1918 © Salvador Dali Public Domain