To My Eyeglasses
I can’t afford to replace you. My wallet empty. No insurance. We’ve known each other for seven years. Windows to the world, you lie on the bridge of my nose. You wobble on my ears as if drunk. Your hinges once silver, now grime- green, coated with dried sweat. Yes, I should clean you with microfiber scraps. My gaze, weakening,… Read more →