is god's loneliest creation.
How so much of the world passes through the pupil and still it holds nothing.
You once told me that the human eye
is god's loneliest creation.
How so much of the world passes through the pupil and still it holds nothing.
The eye alone in its socket doesn't even know there's another one, just like it, an inch away, just as hungry, as empty.
Opening the front door to the first snowfall of my life,
you whispered,
"Look."
