Your eyes punctuate the words pocking the pages of the folio —
Locked away in my heart closet —
With hyperbolic hole punches outside the margins
And onomatopoeic blinking from all the blank spaces
Between ○ the ○ words.
I can hear that sticky gummy eye-opening sound,
Your eyelashes getting tangled like strings of spider silk on a breeze.
From my stare alone.
*** Huh??? ***
*** I just wanted to use the words “hyperbolic” and “onomatopoeic” in the same poem. ***