The eye loves only beauty
And by degree.
Do not engage us in this:
It has imprisoned me.
Nor condemn the omniscient eye.
It speaks in riddles evading
Discretion it will not master.
Have stolen Titian’s retina,
The fovea of Reubens,
Palette of the falling sun
And am so swollen with knowing.
A hundred thousand generations stuffing
The cortex full with instruments
Of measure are in me perfected.
Who will sit enthroned in the gaze
As the eye commands the void?
When the thin and cloudy film cleaves to the lens,
Dims the light, what then of love?
Can love what cannot see
So long sequestered in memory?
© Rhett Talley
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