“Tiresias at the Bridge,” by Tyler J.
I see you there at the end
of the bridge, you so short.
Your eyes pierce my chest
like mirrors, and I feel the pain
with Present’s kiss, again and again.
O, even now, I wonder, now,
where were you?—where were you
when I fell down the drain
and spilled my sentiments
all over the floor, bloody and raw.
I miss you here, where I am now;—
and I think it’s tears I desire most,
but my eyes are locked with Past’s helm,
and all I can do is watch you there,
at the other end of the same bridge.
So I hope you see me where I am:
the dust has begun to collect,
I can hardly see; but you down there,
you remind me of the moon—
a light which guides the blind man,
even though he has only carved circles.