The Phoropter Meets the Universal Eye
Inside: cholesterol spots
are scattered in the soup
like alien planets,
they betray my diet –
fault lines
running through the gelatinous mass:
a tiny reflection
refracting
my personal galaxy.
Shadows where too much light fell
or genetics predisposed a mark.
Pupil struggling to interpret
input among all the floaters.
The lens abused after Lasik incisions,
the corneal cap bruised. Cones fire
a weak signal waiting for the master
in my brain to answer:
Which is better?
Number one or number two?
I say They both look the same
or
Neither is good.
One is skewed, the other blurry.