Real Genius

We need to talk. Straight in the eyes.

These reveal. Jumping jacks on stool

consuming companion, unfold the specs in my hands

carefully positioned them, above the bridge. 

Beneath the transparent heft, eyes widen.         

Pale olive skin    is crisp.

                 Glasses for years, what’s weird.

                 First time, these suckers. My lips.

                              suppress a smile. How come you never?  thirty or worse. 

     

Whole face, a fine fuzz. Skin eaten by Thumbelina. All of her impossible tiny friends.