Would you believe
THEY made my mother into a cool
pool of water?
i search for puddle in the city where every other eye
is a mirror,
do not be frightened of the two beams, I say,
the headlights, piercing the falling rain,
or the stop lights that seem as wobbling angel tongues reflected
on soaked pavement
every other eye will reflect
green and yellow and red, again, stop again even
teenagers and their acnes twinkle,
when they turn their heads I think
disco ball ! and tap my feet to the rain drip drip
THEY will look down from their glass cubes, in pity,
you will see only the soles of shoes, though they will see all of you
this will seem unfair
but what more could one need?
then green and yellow and red and green and yellow and red
Reflected in an eye, or the puddle?
Teronig Tsoukatos is an undergraduate student at the University of California Riverside, studying creative Writing and Psychology. She is the recipient of the William Henry Willis Memorial Poetry Prize. She is obsessed with radio static, soda carbonation, TV snow, and forgotten crumbs under beds. You can follow her on Twitter @teronig, or on Instagram at @enemytero.