To Meet a Pair of Feet

A Poem by piccolabeth

When your eyes meet my feet,
When they reach the hilt of my chest,
Rest on my shoulders
And carve etches into my cheekbones,
Do you pause for air before you find a pair
Of furrowed green eyes to burrow into?
Do you stop in your tracks -
Wondering if the soul that you greet will lack?
Lack in lustre and lack in taste -
Lack in all that makes wasted love waste?
Do you pause for that momentary thought -
The one that sees you stumble for logic,
Abandons all hope that love may HAVE logic
And asks if you DO want to see
All that non-logic laid bare?
From the tips of tainted toes
To the awkward double crown of a bedraggled head -
Floors and floors of flaws I tend to.
I'm flawlessly flawed,
Faultlessly faulted,
And none of it's your fault yet.

Just a single inch further you'll journey.
From the dire black moons
That nestle below a soul's open windows.
You travel that inch with your glorious gaze
(I feel a trace of it against my sullied skin)
And you tumble and roll heart-first in.
Into those caverns you spiral and flail,
Sick with an awe and afraid at the wonder
Of when you will meet my feet again -
Of when logic is redeemed again -
Of when it's not your fault again.

Pause at that rest in my shoulders.
Carve etches into my cheekbones.
Pause for air before you find
A pair of furrowed green eyes
To burrow into.