Sight

Around my eyes:
projections
of baby blue
and paper dolls,
delicate, slight, dainty.
These illusions
are thinner
than a single strand
of my plain blonde hair,
but your head is too thick
to see through.
Inside these eyes
are worlds of insight,
slow-shifting tectonic control,
infernos of primal rage,
seas of compassion.
Strength, reason, frustration fuel
a silent continuous juggling of words,
searching for a way to share
all I see.
You see flat black dots
that punctuate the blue
where shadows hide
the tint of flesh and blood.