1 The blue beginning of your eyes Condenses the sprawling and assured Blue with which the sky retreats From those obscene confessions known as days. 2 Again, your battling mites of blue Try to stop the revolving monster of life And find the indelible persuasiveness Of single forms within the circling blur. Sundered bits of a soul Astonished at their shrunken estate, They are not sure that they have still survived, And plead for the conviction of sight. 3 But when they recollect The hugely placid manners Of their life, before the earthly exile Made them small and fastened To one pathetic puzzle, Their blue reverts to swelling reveries Whose outward circles spurn the curtained jail. 4 Upon your softly incomplete Face, where germs of devils stir in curves That tremble into questioning symmetries, A thrust of darkness sometimes interferes With secret, virgin places underneath Your eyes and where your leaf-thin nostrils pause. This darkness bends with helpless messages, Like history admonishing a world Personified in one, composite face. |