What if the retina
jolted by a light
sent its obligatory signal
to the brain and formed
a woman
and that woman is me
a floater
which my doctor tells me
can be very normal
just a fiber clump
in the vitreous gel
that inhabits the eye
I learned early
this trick
of suspension
how to dart away
from any gaze
held too long
hover
just until
it is unclear
if what you watch
is the world you have left
or a tunnel you might enter
the things an eye
can see from this height
my mother’s face
hiding poison
only meant
for me
the lover on Chestnut
all charm in light
bullets by dark
business trip, an elevator,
strange man’s mouth
doors sealed hard
too many floaters
and a flash of light
is an emergency
my doctor says
I’m high risk
for retinal detachment
quizzes me on symptoms
to see if I’m listening
I tell her acute episodes
of imaginative replacement
floating, looking out
when I should be looking in
the presence of any magic
holding up the body
in lieu of trust
perhaps she’s warning me
about blindness because
she doesn’t know
I’m floating here
beyond her pencil of light
asking if this eye
is all there is to see.