sight no longer comes effortlessly

I can feel my eyes, the effort they make to draw
in the light, to sketch the world about me

like liquid through a straw
the photons pulse my optic nerve

purple – this way!
orange – over here…

upside down I turn myself
correct side up


ceiling moldings are curbs
and chandeliers are art-deco tables
we sit around, seated on ceiling tiles

above us only carpet,
empty shoes
that defy

stepping from window ledges
we float airily up
to our deaths

vision saturates my brain
like a sponge drinks water

I am all things sensuous
and sensual

I see
therefore I am

Chagall 2020