Your eyes, twins of justice and mercy,
make me understand clearly
why Turkish warriors
scratched out the eyes of the icons
before looting treasure from ancient churches.
Haunted in the dark, cool, candlelit spaces-
(muscles gleaming, armor intact,
dagger clutched in hairy fist)
by the reflection in your eyes
of their own guilt.
Those dark pools of light that cause me
to forget who I am-
aware only that here is a door into
something infinitely greater than
my own white-washed tomb of a heart.
by Kristen McCarty - found at the matthew's project website
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