Sunlit and Bright

She had eyes
like the Sun,
after an eclipse’s
course had run,
and if you stared
too long,
your own would
surely burn.

Things seemed so bright.
You’ve spent an entire life

hiding in corners
at night, or behind
a griever’s veil
of sorrow.

Your windows are dirty
and won’t let the light pass,
but pry them open,
break the frames,

if you must,
smash the glass,
and look upon
her glory,
radiant.

Sunlit and bright,
you can feel her
in reflections,
but I, for one,
am not

ready to meet her gaze.


©️ Obol, 2020.

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