Second Sight

In the absence of color

my parched eyes drink darkness

through pupils

dilated and yearning.

It fills the vitreous chamber,

presses against optic nerve,

with the weight of the void

that is now inside me.

Upside down images of naught

reflected against my macula

dissipate and re-form

as I sit unaware

and stare

into nothing...

and everything.

For G-man's FF55.   

And Then November

I don’t see you come

but I feel your cold breath

on my back.

Your gaze stoops my shoulders

and I wither

inside,

curling in

around the dark

like the petals of a flower.

A dozen shades

of brown and grey

fill my eyes.

A killing frost is coming;

I must prepare the ground.

This is for G-man and his FF55.  I missed you all the last couple weeks! 

And this is also for d'Verse where Claudia wants us to write about color, and for  Writers' Digest PAD (writing prompts for November's poem a day challenge).  Today's challenge was "appear" and I tried to do it without using the word itself.