two eyes together yield depth
one eye alone yields none
yet when I let mine eye be single
and not like Poseidon's son
but after the second
the one they call
the third -
the gate
in the brow
to greater depth
and the inner realms -
and gaze through the glass eye
that frames my vision
of the realms
outside
what does it reveal?
a depth of apparent illusion
as close as the far side of the glass
as it begins to melt away
glorious and rich
it nourishes me
like darkness
like something
only Alice can see
depth in the shallows
of a surface made mirror
by the angle of reflected light
This is the ninth pairing in Confluence, a series of poems written in response to original photographs.
I began writing these during the pandemic, using the pictures I was making at the time. I have continued this practice ever since, always writing in response to my most recent images.
I publish a new Confluence every new moon and every time the luminary dyad perfect a trine.