My eyes have one picture.
You on the toilet, nude, guarding
Yourself with an enormous
And you were smiling then.In my eyes
the guarded guiding heat
of your total nudity completely
this open but framed place
where we smile and stay sane,
possessed with a grace of closure.
The aperture frozen like
a needle stuck in a vein.
In here, we are a knife
hidden in redlight districts.
This returning sun reveals us so
that upon my reach back to youYou remain guarded too.
For Heather Pawliki Gibson