Eye

You on the up escalator, me
on the down – have we met?,
do I know you? -

did you
sell me something once? did we, in some previous
reinvention, meet?; or,

was that glance, that
scythe, an abstraction, just
forgotten as soon as happen?

what is this?; an incising?; some incision
in my heart?
Are you the moon veiled,

veiled by waifs and strays;
are you the sea with the shadow on the sea-floor
of the boat, fishing in the night, that floats,

as if air-suspended, beside the cinque terre,
near Shelley’s drowning, near
his burning on the beach,

where his body opened and
showed his heart,
the sudden silence of his heart.