FOCUS

FOCUS

A cloth drawn tight across the eyes,  

not to blind, but to see.  

The world fades,  

its noise muffled by intention.  

Hands steady,  

gripping the edge of silence.  

Curves of thought sharpen  

in the absence of distraction.  

Hair curls like questions,  

but the answer lies inward.  

No light, no color—  

only the shape of resolve.  

Vision is not always sight.  

Sometimes, it is the refusal  

to look away  

from what burns within.

©® Coker Favour A.