Rough Draft:" Eyes"

Some eyes never meet. They take their time and focus their effort completely on not meeting others. Some eyes meet too often in a conspiracy of unspoken thought. Some eyes are too intense: predatory and hungry. Others will pretend to be, outlined carefully brightly stating the queer inflections of personality. Some will look past you, focused only on themselves. Bleary and blurred by exhaustion or drink or something more sinful some eyes see everything not there. Besides these are the cordial eyes which meet and alight, meet and alight. These eyes are truly the most dishonest, not lingering enough to show truth.

Old Poem: Death

Cosmos,
Creation,
Case Study.
What now?
Casket,
Creation,
Cosmos,
Completion.
This now.
Borders blurred.
Skin sloughed.
Shell shattered.
Eggy embryo of life,
Gone.
Welcome to reality.
Where he, she, I, you,
He/she, she/he...
The lines do not linger.
I am you am me is he is she is everyone.
No one.
Someone.
All.
We've shed the illusion that is flesh. Life looms ahead.
And you're surprised.
Finding yourself unchanged
But so changed.
The part of you that wants to be with him
Is.
The part of you that wants to be with her
Is.
The part of you that wants to be with me
Is.
There is only joy.
There are no tears.
But comfort yes.
Feel my not-arms around your not-body.
There is no embrace.
But the feeling,
The emotion
Yes.
I forgave your trespasses long ago
And I know you've forgiven me.
And we are together.
All of us.
Fragments of humanity.
Melted down and stripped
Of the impurity.
Of fleshy form.
That vulgar illusion.
The kingdom has come.
Glorious macrocosm
Astral romance
And yes love,
We are together.
Yes love,
This is forever.
Until you start thinking in patterns
And logic
Instead of love,
And truth.
And take up mortal skin again.
But then I'll follow you.
Back to that mad illusion.