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cortnicofficussPoems
Everyone looks pretty when I take off my glasses. I blink, rub twin bruises from my nose, eyes narrowed like the tip of a Dali paintbrush: melting liquid color on a pregnant canvas. I let pigment run into faces: heads lumpier than hand-rolled ***** of clay, black mouths rippling like asphalt puddles, bodies quivering like overcooked linguine: blurred, as if viewing them without prescription has stripped and censored their naked bodies. Sightless, I see with my ears: watch the tone of their voices, taste the words that unfurl from the breath on their tongues. I see with my skin, feel the atmospheres that slow-boil under their own. I see from the depth of my stomach: absorb the energies that hit my belly-button: third eye. And when I've seen, I replace my glasses                                                                           blink. Sight eclipses my vision: stubborn lines and harsh contrasts framed in unforgiving black boxes. I think maybe I'd rather brave the world blind – nose bare, eyes squinted, and belly grumbling – if only so I could see with clarity.
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Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 4:37 PM UTC
20/20
Everyone looks pretty when I take off my glasses. I blink, rub twin bruises from my nose, eyes narrowed like the tip of a Dali paintbrush: melting liquid color on a pregnant canvas. I let pigment run into faces: heads lumpier than hand-rolled ***** of clay, black mouths rippling like asphalt puddles, bodies quivering like overcooked linguine: blurred, as if viewing them without prescription has stripped and censored their naked bodies. Sightless, I see with my ears: watch the tone of their voices, taste the words that unfurl from the breath on their tongues. I see with my skin, feel the atmospheres that slow-boil under their own. I see from the depth of my stomach: absorb the energies that hit my belly-button: third eye. And when I've seen, I replace my glasses                                                                           blink. Sight eclipses my vision: stubborn lines and harsh contrasts framed in unforgiving black boxes. I think maybe I'd rather brave the world blind – nose bare, eyes squinted, and belly grumbling – if only so I could see with clarity.
cortnicofficuss
Written by
cortnicofficuss
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 4:37 PM UTC
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