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Chance Has Your Eyes
by
Paul Grimsley
i see under broken floorboards
smashed by the heavy feet you wear
dispersed mirrors in the plugged sink
cut my lips when i drink
cupped hands reflect what i think
i saw you hanging there
with a tongue of seven swords
illustrated in revelation
comfortable at your station
the door left ajar gathering eyes
to the shadow hued seam
where curiosity pans for gold
what secrets do crushed fingers hold
a poor cage the poverty of grip
i hear the faucet's constant drip
and investigate the bathroom
you enjoy it all laugh boom
it was a funny thing to dream
almost but still a weak surprise
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