You belong in my eye sockets.

Be grossed out, cringe and gnash your teeth, but sometimes all you have is your creativity and words to think of ways on how to escape exhaustion.

Like the state my eyes are in--they are their own unique and separate beings, if only I can gently pluck them out my socket, like a leaf floating in a pond, awaiting redemption from the surge of an incoming rain, I would. I will give these eyes a rest, in a bowl of shaved ice, diamond sprinkles, clear and crisp, soft and inviting. I will then cover them with a wool blanket, away from the sun, away from an emergence and urgency of mortality brought by the delirious whiff of dead air- humidity.

Tucked and hidden, I will allow them an undisturbed respite for 8 hours. 8 hours, an infinity in my world, and in the morning, I will carefully lift them up again, like a feather caught in mid air, yet this time, in melted ice turned cold water, wipe them sweet with love and affection, place them back into my sockets where they belong and co-exist with my body, like the missing puzzle piece you sought and found, you both carry on, you greet the morning and see the world again like it was the first time.