Your eyes are diabolical blue

After Guy Garvey

sneaking up on us
with the footsteps of people
we’ve only met when your lids open.
What did they see?
Where did they sleep?
You rub them with fists,
desperate to keep them awake
as not to miss us spinning the sun away.
I look at you looking
and slow every move down,
wondering what you’ll steal
and what you’ll improve.

© Carl Burkitt 2022

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