I am learning,
Learning to toss out
My skeptic eyes.
Removing them from my being
And offering them to the moon
I am trying,
Trying to stop
My four minute mile mind.
Throwing up blockades
To give it a breath or two.
I am ceasing,
Ceasing to allow
My gut to be eaten up.
Instinct shall share the
Throne with reason.
"Let my eyes be the moss.
Let my eyes be the trash at stop 439.
Let my eyes be every captor that inspires.
Let my eyes be the cherry blossom leaves fallen on the cars, they are the new constellations in which I will read my future.
Let my eyes be every major, minor and diminished chord.
Let my eyes be the back of unforgotten neck.
Let my eyes be the beer bottles and cans, you boys are looking like skyscrapers!!!
Let my eyes be the death of my skeptic"
