Clapping Erasers
Shhhhhhh
Chhhh
And scratch
My cornea
Blown open
Shadows
Of broken mists
Twisting you
To meet me
Just left
Of center
And this
Little haze
The looking glass
You find me
Falling out
The other end
A soft voice
Narrating
A clear video
I burn
Memory
Into rutted fields
Chalk dust
Left after the eraser
To rustle the trees
In the forest
Of your mind
To sing between
Whisper and lullaby
What you saw
Gazing through
The other side.