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.