Fifteen

There is no longer a “you”

There is only an eye

And oh, the mighty eye

Only sees I

It’s some sort of surveillance

(a veil of okayness)

And I fear all I do

(will be to no avail)

But in the life with no “you”

I start to see clearly
The emotions poking through
The brushstrokes of the clouds in the sky
Emanating—still on my mind—
I search for this solace

An inexplicable caress————the sun, no duress

And oh, the mighty eye

Only sees I…
…coloring the sky with the heartbeat of life

graham watts