Vision
I would accept dust-covered non-belief
simply to see what is unseen,
to have Cassandra's eyes, the hissing
serpents in my ears as I lay
on the temple floor, called to the window,
vision of falling fruit, eyes opened
to emptiness and whatever shadows
reside there, knowing Apollo gave me
a gift never to be received. Still
I would offer my body to taste
the bitterness of that gift, to see
what lies beyond the grasping reach
of human eyes, to glimpse, just once,
the next moment before it unfolds,
only to be denied, broken, my tongue
wrapped forever in dark silence.
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