night vision

i saw you in the fluent green of midnight
with your face a matter of cattails & swamp.
a swing dangled from the ceiling 
& i waited for you to ask me what i did 
with the stars. led them out on leashes
to drink from my mother's face. each of us 
has more than three eyes. the eyes in the cupboard.
the eyes for morning light. the eyes who see
a bruise before it blooms. we are a family 
of watering cans. the tomatoes know
how to get exactly what they want. once,
i let you slice me open just to see how this
could work. crawling on hands & knees
in the dark kitchen where the pots & pans
have no right to be so jovial. we could have been
the whole cylinder. i'm realizing you aren't 
who i thought you were & likewise you're seeing
all my heat. red spreading from my heart
to my face. let's talk about depth & iron.
let's eat crayfish from the water. our hands
fresh & cold as stones. should we speak
of this again? should we call it "legend"
or should we brush the dead leaves over
this old night's face. lay him to rest,
his time like dew collecting. do you trust me
to tell you what i do & don't see? i see 
an elephant in the backyard. i see a neighbor
mowing his lawn at midnight. 
i don't see you at all.