Glasses

8 lines, 12 beats per

_{Black plastic frames, constantly slipping off of my face-
narrowing my world to a clear window of sharp
details, otherwise invisible to my eyes
as they are, unaided. I long for my contacts,
but I must wait (patiently enduring) until the
prescription is in. The only part I enjoy
is watching the small rainbows form in my leanses.
The world is much more endurable with color.}