I have no eyes anymore and as usual

I have no eyes anymore and as usual
I step out on my own. I believe I can still see colors

and faceless strangers like Petals
on a wet black bough

I see the red red
red of a leaf
on a tree, hanging, dying,

Man's conscience is the best
mnemonic device.

Sleight of hand, Blink
of an eye, Piece
of half-eaten cake...

You didn't suffer, didn't even
know.

The blood was smeared all over me
that evening, and your empty space
expanded, surrounded me
until I realized you weren't dead.

I never saw the sunrise after that.

Now sightless, in this half-life,
I sometimes strain to see my reflection
in a mirror;

The features I almost see, I swear,
are of your face.