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Marcel Khalife
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Her eyes
Two eyes lost in color. Green before grass
is green. Blue before dawn is blue. They
mimic water's color, then dart a hazel look
toward the lake and turn it green.
The widen when stars stroll on the roof,
constrict in love's bed. They open to receive
a dream that glimmers in the night's lids,
and close to receive honey that pours from a
beehive. They lift poplars and willows higher.
And escape from mirrors that are too narrow
for them. They are who they are at night,
two mirrors of my unknown fate.
Two eyes, clear, cloudy, truthful, liars,
her eyes.
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