I was sitting on the beach, watching the waves
when they shattered the darkness.
Two glowing orbs approaching:
demon eyes, like the monster-under-the-bed
when I was nine, except these were yellow,
not red, or green, like cat’s eyes.
or blue, like my mother’s eyes
in the picture they showed me
—but I can’t remember her eyes—
china doll eyes, they said,
like a cloudless summer sky,
not warm and dark like Daddy’s,
not like slit pupilled snake eyes,
or liquid chocolate puppy dog eyes,
or bedroom eyes, that love you
when they touch your skin,
nor the wide innocent eyes of a child.
These were nightmare eyes,
stalking eyes, that slithered over the sand.