The Last of You

`Night

Was the last thing said-

Inane, but what else could it have been?

I remember, beautiful blue eyes

In contrast to the rest:

Yellow, shrunk, grey around the iris;

Angles hellish sharp; a square, not a cheek.

I remember remembering you clearly

The scene, vivid only weeks, days, hours ago.

A Picasso distortion, a dizzy turning blurs your face

An indistinct yellow-pink puddle engulfs my mind

But not your blue eyes.

Stuck, fixed in the center of memory

Last pure anchor, precious sapphire drops perched on my fingertip

I’ll never let your eyes drop from my sight

Or you’ll die.

You’ll die again.

(But they’ll drop

One day.)