Ciglio

If I could be the eyelash 

fallen from the rest.

Never found by the violent scratch—

connected to the irritated hand.

I would be invisible and destructive, 

the production of tears and feeling of relief 

once discovered. 

I would need to be the only thought that comes to mind

as I fall into your deep bronzed eyes. 

The blurred vision disappearing, 

once I am surrounded by your hands. 

After noticed,

I am thrown away—

left to dance in the wind 

until I am invisible once again.