Eyepiece

Two needles knitting and not an eye between them. Click click, the path turns in upon itself, a field of knots. This is the sound an eyetooth makes before it breaks.

Bodies aren’t as finished as we think. A third eye can open anywhere. Certain navels allure with a permanent wink.

There’s hardly a part of the body that can’t learn vision, clock stopped at the center of a hurricane, all-seeing shape that plays for keeps. It shines. It weeps.