My eyes are no longer mine.

When I go searching for them, I can’t find them.

When I find them, I can’t recognize them.

Now I’m seeing things I haven’t seen before.

Now I’m dreaming dreams I haven’t dreamt before.


Sweet is the burden on my face.

The burden of new eyes.

It’s frightening to walk around with my new eyes

on the same face.


A writer dances

upon a written poem –

the victory dance!