Black Eye

I was looking
For a shiner,
Something the
Shape of the moon
That you’d slap a
Steak on

And he kept
Saying that
He had a black
Eye, an eye
For black

I looked into
His face, under
His eyes

Maybe it was
One of those
Invisible injuries

Still he insisted
He had a
Black eye

And he lay
On his bunk wearing
The standard orange

He looked up at the
Bunk above

Someone had
Carved the
Words: Fuck the police
Into the metal

And I looked
At him, searching
For his black eye

And he

I got
A black eye

I see the
Black in

I see black when
I sleep, when
I wake and when
I weep

I see black in
The food I eat
And in the words
Carved into my flesh

I see black
In the face of
The moon

I see black as it
Falls off the bones

A feral shadow
That was once

And I see his
Black eye in
That instant

As clear
As the

©2017 Tony Robles


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