Such eyes could be the pearls that we can’t see.
Each movement could be a breathed image so
Consummate in reflection that when we
Try to compare cheap wine with fine Bordeaux
And foolish ecstasy with foolish love,
—just, you know, to feel your pulsing accuracy—
You become like the sky you can’t possibly see above
The surf, a cuttlefish, say, but one free
From its watery origins, one that appears
To disappear. Poof. Gone. So gone its mind
Becomes a coral reef. So gone our fears
Become just like the blind leading the blind
With eyes so full of tears. Child, if we stay
Together, I will eat you. Swim away,
Baby Winnims, swim far away.