My Eyes – by Jenny MacBain-Stephens

 

My eyes are not my father’s eyes:
warm and crinkly and brown and quick
to laugh.

My eyes are not my great grandmother’s: brilliant
blue and piercing and a screaming for the wrong attention.

My eyes are near sighted:
I need glasses to drive.

My eyes do not linger on too much.

My eyes are hazel: a mix of my mother’s green and father’s brown.
My eyes have long lashes that used to wear mascara more.

My eyes see how things change faster and faster.

 

 

 

 

Jennifer MacBain-Stephens went to NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts and now lives in the DC area. Her chapbook ‘Clown Machine’ recently came out from Grey Book Press. Recent work can be seen or is forthcoming at The Birds We Piled Loosely, Queen Mob’s Teahouse, Inter/rupture, concis, Sea Foam Magazine, and decomP. Her website is here

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