It doesn’t come easily. But when it does, it’s all at once in a rush of feeling, memory, cascading words/images/thoughts/dreams/impressions/dots of color/black & white/gray scale/composition/color/form/volume/spatial insight/unedited & unfiltered. It’s up to me to sort it out and discern the truth or perhaps the paucity of truth–let it settle/digest/flow through my veins/spark a synapse/skip a heartbeat/take a vacation/work hard.
Four eyes: quadruplet orbs/two real/two parallel to reality–I’m just saying that it’s possible & although adopted my mother’s mother/my mother had four eyes.
Four eyes: when you’re a child & wearing glasses + there may be other differences/tall/skinny/effeminate = certain harassment from the middle, because they are the middle & always will be. Do you think they know that? Some little voice in their head, nagging/nudging/abusive/that keeps them chained to their middle-ness. It never bothered me. It was jelly slipping across cream cheese on a warm bagel running down your finger/hand/catching it with your tongue, m-m-m delicious this ridicule & ridiculous.
Four eyes: the glasses go in time for you to become yourself, but the stigmata of otherness branded around your eyes/raccoon/bandit/yosemite sam-like anger lurks just below the surface/nessie & mythological/legendary eruptions/mercurial/these visions come unhindered & unwanted. They drive you WRONG WAY DO NOT ENTER, but you go anyway & it’s years before you can extricate yourself from that choice.
Four eyes: one day it just comes back, you can’t see clearly [reality] + it’s too late/you’re too old/habits challenge you & chain you–you allow it–still that vision/foresight/demands of the future unspool leaving a trail perhaps breadcrumbs/roadside markers & then you’re there–it’s not déjà vu, it’s not the future it’s now.