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Here’s an enigmatic poem, by Amanita, that explores layers of meanings, exclusively for Different Truths.
A pair of eyes follows me everywhere.
Not belonging to any familiar face
they watch me most impassionately,
but almost not for once batting the lids
not giving out any of its thoughts remotely.
Like an artist watching his subject keenly,
before he lifts up his finger to sketch
the eyes keep on reading every single line,
blemishes, blotches that my skin breaks into,
each deepening and fading of dark circles.
Some weary days, I wished it had a chest
to hide me in, hands to pat me to sleep,
but the eyes never looked it would comply,
one flicker of disarming vulnerability, may be,
before it went on to do what it did best, see!
Photo from the Internet
