‘myopia,’

the doctor
says as he hands
me my new glasses with
the brown plastic
frames and the lens
thick as the thick
bottom of a glass
I’ve been having more
headaches lately and more oftenly
dizzy in the same way I get
after my first morning
cigarette.

‘myopia,’

(noun), nearsightedness
close objects look
clear but distant
objects not as much.
close objects seen clearly
but objects farther
away appear blurred
he explains further
as i hand him the
money and I get on my way
home and I look at everything
around me and these new
glasses already feel like a scam.
They’re sliding down my
nose and I look at everything
around me and they do look clearer
but feel the same as before — a haze,
a blur; indistinct shapes that I know well
enough by their nature but not by
meaning and I realize how
you’re so far away, you’re so
distant but of all the things I could
claim to know you’re the clearest
thing I’ve ever
set sight on.

I do not know if it’s just that
image of you or my imagination
that’s to blame for how vivid
you have imprinted into
the cloud that is my
memory; burned
into my mind.

(I feel you burn
like a fire in
there, it hurts.)

I push them
up against my
brow, these new
glasses, doctors
don’t really know
anything at all.