eclipse
Aimee Cliff
Mum texts me,
“Don’t look directly at the sun,
Not even for a second!”
Apparently it’s a human instinct,
Looking –
They say the milky dark makes us drop our defences,
Right when our pupils are most vulnerable,
According to a doctor on the radio,
We turn our spongy, dilated eyes
Up to the sky right as it pours with toxic bleach;
We risk it all for a glimpse.
But I’ve been practicing,
No, I’ve mastered the art of
Not looking –
Of being one body obscured by another,
A body I can’t see directly –
Bedsheets thrown over the mirror –
Fortressed inside my imagination
Is an idea of a person that burns to the touch;
When my defences are low, I look at my reflection
And catch their eye,
Watching me from the wrong face.