Framed

When the world is suffocating
and toxic crowds own the streets
and smog chokes the morning sun,
when broken glass lines my bed
and the screaming won’t stop
and the blade is too dull to cut,
when every atom is in violent revolt,
crushing my windpipe
invading my clarity
rendering my kidneys useless
and recirculating waste
upon waste
upon waste,
I think of your eyes
as you stood
in the doorway
on the night we met,
harsh
and searching
and judging
and open wide,
refusing to look away
from the ugliness of this prison.
My thoughts turn to a crawl
as fears
and hatred
and anger
and delusion
dry up,
leaving only your eyes,
open,
on me,
where I hope they will always and forever be.

-December 5, 2021

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