I'm not sure how long I've been sitting here.

I'm not sure what else has happened.

The color of the sky has changed.

I'm still staring into something big.

I think that it's your eyes.

I can't put my finger on it,

Something about your rectangular pupils,

Something about a magic flute I hear.

Suddenly a crash of breaking glass

Breaks the spell,

But I can't tell

Even how I feel.

I'm spinning

As my heart cries, "Pan!"

My feet carry me outside

As if on autopilot,

And my own eyes swallow the sun

Like a half starved Maenad

Eating cherry pie.

-jenn