Privileged to be privy to the picture of the person before me.
An image of stunning clarity,
Each new angle I get to witness
Creates a composite character
That I gaze upon with dinner-plate pupils,
giddy and enthralled.
I can’t help but feel pity for those forced
to squint
and squeeze
a drop of you into their bloodshot eyes,
not realising that sight is a gift.
I could compare you to the sun,
but to do so would be reductive.
The sun could only hope for the space you take up
in the minds of those who are brave enough
to open their eyes,
and see you.