her blue eye was a lens
it focused on the beauty
with her filter cleansed
camera never forsaking fidelity
she focused on the beauty
of the silent world that day
she was filming a bronzed daisy
and turned before it could decay
the silent world that day
parted for the steps of an old lady
whose eyesight sunk away
with no friend, husband or baby
the steps of an old woman
and the creases in her face
such familiarity was inhuman
made the lens halt its pace
the creases in her face
in the reflection of the camera
when aside her own was placed
became a hologram of the future
the reflection of the camera
a faded grey nonentity
the lens eye rotated to see her
but the woman had lost clarity
the lens faded into a nonentity
a blind observer of life
her lens eye was the penalty
of hiding in the light
a blind observer of life
inside her empty home
watching and not doing keeps you safe
but it keeps you all alone
inside her empty home
she focused on the beauty
of the blue iris in the chrome
when she closed her lens eye
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