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THE EYE IS NOT THE WINDOW TO THE SOUL

I.

A glance is a diplomat in a morning coat
delivering a carefully worded message in
a stiff, white envelope on a silver tray.

The soft touch of the tip a tongue is
a Blitzkrieg across a twenty-mile front,
burning cities and turning rivers red.


II.

A beautiful woman and her husband
sit across from you at a dinner party.
You and the woman glance at the tray bearing the desserts.
Your glances intertwine on the last piece of chocolate.
The husband does nothing.

A beautiful woman and her husband
sit across from you at a dinner party.
You and the woman glance at the tray bearing the desserts.
She picks up the last piece of chocolate, bites it in half
and gently places the remaining morsel in your mouth.
The husband goes for his pistol.


III.

A soul does not engage the world by
sliding out on cool rays emanating from the eyes,
it slips out the warm tunnel of the mouth
flicked into being by an emphatic tongue.
It rides out astride a breath
taking the shape of the word "yes."
It leaks out, an invitation dissolved in a fleck of saliva
on the last piece of chocolate.

      — Denver Perkins