The Monster The Monster
They say her eyes are green,
but green's the color of youth
and life
and the brilliant emerald of each unfurling leaf.

Maybe her eyes are black,
colored the crumble of death and decay —
but the sky is also black, at night,
with infinite glittering diamonds of hot white light.

I think her eyes are colorless.
That's how she leaves the world.

All I can say is:
don't be jealous.
Not when I'm yours, and not hers,
not when it takes away my happiness
because my happiness takes away yours.

Previous Poem | Back to Table of Contents | Next Poem