Blistering Eye

Warmth. But not like the evening summer sun
on your palm.
Not like a smooth bubble bath wrapping
around your thigh.

A stretchy one. That goes from your neck up
to your cheeks, screaming with intention
and devastating inclination.
A sharp shiny teeth turning into a black bite
just behind your ears in occipital phlegm of
your peripheral eyesight.

Criss-crossed, never tossed a dragon’s bride
diced cube with erased six
still you got the Bingo – you are alive!

Flickers with a never-changing headache.
I can look through the kaleidoscope any time I wish.
Ha! How lucky I am…
Many would say and I respond:
A cathode machine gun is my best friend
Locked inside the screen of an impervious display.

Humming, rattling, burbling on the left
blossoms like a spark of immature theft
of the third down Pythagoras theorem
In weakness tries to catch its breath.

Lonesome loathing of the thing I valued the most
waves in disguise believing is never too late
for a particle to arrive at the right angle
Of the iris’ sigh.