Poetic Exploration of the Heart

A Man With the Sun in His Eyes

A Man With the Sun in His Eyes

Last night I met a girl with no face. She was talking to a friend of mine. Sitting on the side, I couldn’t resist looking at her, admiring her prominent blankness. When my friend left to get us more drinks, the girl with no face pulled out a tiny mirror from her handbag and started to apply make up, as if she had a face! I thought I’d seen enough, so I excused myself and went home to sleep it off.

But then this morning, I met a man with the sun in his eyes. He looked at me, and I felt myself melting. I had to run for shelter, find a wall to put between us, or a person. (If walls are hard to come by, people are always handy to use in this sense; they’re as good as walls.) But it didn’t help much. I could feel the heat boiling inside me, I wanted to ignore him, I wanted to fire back, to at least look him in the eyes, but I couldn’t for the fear of being blinded.

I spent the rest of the day in the company of a boy with hobbit feet. We ran and played and teased and laughed and squeaked with delight. Then we devoured a delicious vegetable soup. Afterwards he drove me to town. He is a great driver. Later that evening we played in the shower, where we splashed the water and squeaked with delight some more. The boy with hobbit feet soon fell asleep in my lap.

I tried to sleep too, but throughout the night, the thought of the man with the sun in his eyes kept my whole bedroom full of light. In the morning, finally exhausted, I fell asleep and dreamt of diving into the sky and flying above the city.

Photography by Tunca Bayoglu

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Alienated Me
Alienated Me

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