Candles And Cotton

Eyes are always great liars. The strange mystique of the eye so sweet is a garden path to deceit. Small glimpses of colour in those eyes of another and the dream of a perfect lover is born. So carry their pure image to the blankets where you sleep. Whisper it a secret that only an image can keep. Tuck it under pillows fair, filled with cotton, silk, and dead lovers’ hair. Protect the image, never dare to betray it to the sun.

So ice hangs in the window pane, yet sun will enforce its own domain. The sun has claimed your glass and now the ice is forced to wilt and thaw. Ice, I saw it in her eyes. Another trick of seeing lies. Ice, I felt it when she spoke. Her voice would crack, her voice would choke. I never did let myself hear it. I was a foil to her joke.

A razor ran my head so clean. It shone just like those lies I’d seen. This union here should not have been. This taper candle, so obscene. Its naked wax feels so unclean. Just like my cotton bedside throw. The blood on cotton never goes. The glass is broken at my toes. I step in disregard and blood will show.

Time to place a reason here. Beyond the horror, dread and fear. Time to justify the lies. The lies I saw deep in her eyes. For liars true are liars lost. My blood and bone have paid the cost for lies I spoke when I was consumed. Yes, she consumed me as I’ll consume you.

I’d prefer no eyes at all. Then the lies would all be soft. As soft as cotton, as bare as wax. Is a fire what the eyeball lacks? Would gentle fire find a way to take the need for lies away? May fire find me from the wick and give the answer to the trick of coldness.

My velvet wrists are neatly kissed by candle fire and cotton gifts of gauze and bandage to soak clean the truth no eye has ever seen. While under notice by her eyes, I lose the will to stare and lie. So gently she now wipes my face. Her blind heart prepares a better place. Her fingers raise a candle high and bid goodbye to my eyes’ lies. A flash is all the moment takes. A black smear crawls across my face. I reach out now with blind hands too. In sightlessness our love proves true.