I live in a world
            full of people with your name
but not the way you articulate the consonants
            or the way your eyes dare
listeners to
            contradict your intricate intonation.

                      correction

I live in a world
           full of people who think they can have your name
without having your soul.

sweep me off my*

                         *insolence

because every mood
when
we absorb one another’s irises
spins me in such poignant fragrance
as if to say
                            “my now is yes
                              between your fingers”

I love you like the first lemon I tasted
you stormed into my life
                             (like the sour in my face.)

        you changed the expressions I choose to wear too…
but instead of making the grimace-squeeze face of
                            acidic lemon

                                              I tend to be too busy smiling.

Sometimes I mistake you for euphoria,
for as you drip pigment into the colors
of my irises, they can no longer focus
for shaking iridescent mirth.

Stickysappy
pupils
gather images
withoutbeneath
classically
trained “understanding”
Blinking colored pixalfree
(nonsense.)
everything inside- Happy
out of focus

But believe me
(when I say)
You do not see
as well as I do,
with your
*Unadulterated Vision.