Squinting

(is enough, let it be)

Squint. I squint—all my life,

at every one and thing,

reshaping my eyes, scanning for strife.

Squinting at a world that:

I can fly a starship

through a riptide

into the storm coming wide,

I did ride

But never did I hide

Or abide.

I wake at day,

and say:

“I think your eyes will kill me long before your lies.

My brain gets stuck on some things and can’t seem to let go.”

As an Indian head nickel twirls,

it always lands on tails,

too much risk not to.

Staring is never enough,

Not nearly bad enough.

Not anything is bad enough not to be forgiven

again, and again, and again.

Sometimes, things happen,

as they should,

though never would.

Let it be, hinting,

I can see,

all of you: squinting.

Girl leaning on her elbow. Egon Schiele, 1915

©Philippe du Col, Duchess of Orange 🍊 2024

Shabbat Shalom!