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BY SIERRA JOHNSON
To be hazy eyed is easy;
Focus is minute in ability and constant,
The way eyes dance across faces but tends to
Always focus on one.
With dreaming it's the same
Eyes linger on lips drawn heavenward, focusing
On the way the whiteness of teeth make eyes
Sparkle that much more.
And then focus is drawn there,
Lips speaking, but ears suddenly hearing
Blood rushing and the subtle in and out
Of breathing.
Lips were locked suddenly;
Brain flooded with the softest hum of
Anticipation and contentment.
Hard to focus with one's eyes being dosed but
Feeling every piece of a body pressed against
One's own was enough to
Lull a fragile mind to temporary rest.
