She opens her eyes
and parts her lips
to reveal her gleaming white teeth.
Her eyes the good.
Her teeth the bad.
Eyes lock with mine and I am in the net.
Eyes like oceans,
eyes like opal,
eyes like embrace,
eyes like answered prayer.
Teeth like talons,
teeth like rusted razors,
teeth like dirty uncut fingernails,
teeth like cracked mirrors,
teeth like solid flame.
She holds me in her gaze
as if her eyes were hands,
caressing ruddy unkempt cheeks,
eyes like dancing fire betray me
as she bares her teeth.
They sink into my amoral flesh,
exquisite pain as my blood flows,
my eyes flutter like an insect in death throes,
my heart gives in, then gives out
and my soul implodes like a dying star.
Eyes gleaming like guitar strings in the firelight.
False gods of almost surreal beauty.
Teeth ripping into me while I am dreaming,
exposing my sinew and muscle
and all of my lacking.
The sun rises.
Birds swoop down for crumbs.
Roses bloom in syncopated pantomime.
Snow silently blankets the hillside.
As eyes and teeth expose my lacking.
Learn more about John Tustin and view more of his work on his website at fritzware.com/johntustinpoetry