Colors and depths, shape

Responding to my gaze

Or not

Ignoring the weight I put on them

Because they are not real

A window

A door

A comparison

A symbol

Watching me as if they had divine right

They tell all my secrets

If I cannot sleep

Then I cannot lie

As touch meets touch

So too does look meet with liquid reflection

A three-point star of onlookers

Who observe silently

Cloudy with a foreign intake

The salt tears that escape

And sometimes an inner light which shines them forward

The eyes become a vision.