I Struggle.
The white dropper
looms like a bird's beak
a little too close
to my tender eyes,
but finally the drops splash
over my eyelashes
my nose and cheeks.
First a sting
and then I feel
nothing.
Soon the quiet room
becomes immense and bright.
I gaze in wonder
as my hands grow
transparent,
throbbing veins turn to
blue rivers
coursing through pale ravines
of webbed bone.
Vision grows deep
with dilation.
The doctor peers
through my eyes,
looking past
murky vitreous,
right down to
my optic nerve,
and I wonder what she sees.
A small hole torn into the retina,
just to the left
yes! that's where
lightning flashed before,
where now lies blindness…
my own circle of night,
foreshadowing
Nothing.
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