Blindness

In that movie you profess to love, the villain’s tell

is the blood wept from his bad eye.

The trailhead, the bench outside the station, the concrete

slab above the lake, the other places you waited, unable.

The day before your Zoom divorce, you wrote down

‘Zoom divorce’ in your planner. Then erased it.

The sign leaning against the bowling alley’s open door

said virtual reality coming soon.

You surrounded the peephole with red sequined arrows

then scolded us for peering through.

We all see your vestigial teeth, your os trigonum, the one pupil

pinned like the wrong end of the telescope.

Really Bri it’s brave of you to share,

we would have never known by looking at you.