Olivia Soule is an MFA candidate at the University of Nevada, Reno and has published poems in the Haight Ashbury Literary Journal and Pudding Magazine. 

Blind Spot
By Olivia Soule 

I think I’m going blind. It’s not that I have trouble seeing, I just
feel the future coming in behind my right eye.  Now, you’re a
stranger, but last December, when your brother was still alive,
you said you’d love to see me. 

Since the funeral, conversation has ceased. But you cared
for your brother, after the cancer took his body. It was hard
to admit that he was dying. I saw a picture of him on Facebook,
eyes transparent like mine. 

I have an impression behind my right eye.
I would say that losing you was like going blind,
but you’re the one whose vision’s blurred.
It’s your brown eyes whose pupil
lost a light-pigmented part, such
astigmatism. Could they register
the shock of seeing that much
suffering at once?