MAUDLIN MAWS▪︎Poetry (3)

55. Eyes inadequate

As the tears are left unshed from the hem of my lids, sapphire blues pool
The auburn of my eye is but chafed whirls
Whimpering in bareness the loss of soundness
Frail buds of my mind I hunched down to pick,
Release on the horseback of gentle northward wind that didn't promise to give back what I handed
I learn to breath while I suffocate
Conforted by the own blemished means supposed to make my throat paralytic to air

3/8/2023