Even when I close my eyes I still see it, the after
impression left from staring too long as something far too bright, blinding by
its brilliance until I see nothing else, the residue of something seen or felt
I can’t, separated from, and do not wish to, needing to cling to it the way a
drowning man clings to a life preserver, knowing to let go means doom, even if
it is only a memory.
I close my eyes and it is still there, her eyes staring back
as if unreality, frowning at me, her mouth caught in a subtle smirk, as if to
confess she knows the effect her brightness has on me, and how those of us on
the brink of drowning know exactly has we cannot escape, this undertow, this bright
light, this drowning, this blindness.
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