“Your prescription now is stronger,”
My optician says to me
He only means to give the dimming
Fuzzy world a clarity
You, I’ve not explained to him yet
He has not asked that I do
Only wants to know my headaches
An alphabet recital too
Think you I’ll love you less dearly
If I see you sharp and clear
If I see your flaws my dear one
Once I excused myopically
It’s not the case, although it should be
I love you not for fuzzy glow
For radiant halos stemming only
From faulty curve of lens, I know
I love you for your faults, you bastard
And when I see them close and sharp
I’ll pull the hornrims off my nose, dear
Vowed haloed angel, sans specs, mit harp.
© 2015 Alex Ankarr.
Image – Zuukuo Wuu public domain.