Black Eye

Glossy lens catches me

in a quick blink, unblinking.

Dust rims the glass,

spiderwebs frame the cold eye.

I hesitate, caught

between movement and stillness,

feeling watched, small,

as a secret about to slip.

It traces my tired face,

splits light like cracked glass,

and holds the moment

long after I’ve turned away.

Silent sentinel,

a black eye in the corner,

staring down everything

I try to forget.