I’ve to choose
some words
To describe
My eyes.
Words are sacred,
all of them
However filthy
they’re to your eyes, yes, that word, F-word too.
My right eye,
upper eyelid
Drools like a
broken umbrella. Like this simile?
Pupil inside crusted
with red, drier than a desert particle.
Child averts
her face seeing the phantom.
Shapeless
shape. Ugly! Dirty! filthy!
I’ve dirtied
these sacred words
By tapping
them
To describe
My eyes.
Hurt funs me,
you know.
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