Sir my eyes are like the scar on your stomach
I’m not sure what happened to you
Our irises are the same color too
But mine weren’t always blue
Like the rain
And the sky
And the blood in our veins
I’m sure you bled a lot when they tore you up
But healed well with their crisscrossed stitches
Woke within hours
Now there’s nothing left but raised skin
High like the time when I flew
I was sixteen in the back of a black pick up truck
We hit a pole and
My head cracked open up
I remember flying but not when I hit the ground
The next three months I was like Amelia Earhart
In a cloud
Only I wanted down
I spent that summer asleep
And I think you were in my dreams
In my coma I wished for your eyes
Mine were dark brown and you were my light
Blue
Sir you can see my scar now too
My eyes are like the scar on your stomach
Euphemism Campus Box 5555 Illinois State University Normal, IL 61790