blink

it was supposed to be black

an absence

an occultation

an eclipse

but I looked closely

into the center

where your iris

pulsed open

and closed

and chose a middle distance

an aperture that worked

and it was not black

in its penumbral light

swam

an iridescence of

loose fish scales

hummingbird throat

newly-flaked flint chip

new enough not to know

how not to cut

and so it did

but you never noticed

you went on

pressing and seeking

while the edge of your hand

went on and opened

a horizon of blood

a new eye

sharing

the fresh white you

of you