Celia’s eyes are like Maya Angelou’s eyes,
like Adrienne Rich’s eyes, they’re dark,
reflective, wet under a shine of unshed tears.
The eyes say I have seen a lot of the world
and it is complicated; the eyes see things the rest of us pretend
are not there-- the universe, our bodies.
They are eyes that have looked into
perhaps a lifetime of eyes that never reflected them back.
Eyes that have somehow found their way here
to this place where we provide our own reflection,
provide our own light,
where we see each other.
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