Down the side of my bed 

I found about six hair bands,

All black, scrunched, 

Pressed into the carpet.

Dull white reflections gave away 

The presence of about forty

Half-shattered contact lenses.

I gathered them in my hands,

Remembered your eyes, 

Remembered that you stared, blinked, glared

Through each of these for hours.

My hands contained weeks of your sight.

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Alex Murphy has been writing poetry for over ten years, performing at open mics across the UK as well as Berlin. He has also recently had poems published in Scran Press and miniMAG. His poetry is concerned with the interplay between internal and outside worlds, ranging through domestic, urban and rural spaces.