An Argument Against An Objective Materialist Universe
The wallpaper has a pattern of eyes,
life-sized, brown, with double eyelids.
I spin but cannot catch any one blinking.
When I change in the morning
to get ready for work,
they appraise me from all angles.
In the evening, after work,
when I’m masturbating in bed,
I swear a tear glistens at the corner of every eye.
Just before I fall asleep,
they look like the eyes of my boyfriend
who is away in Brazil.
I can’t get them to stop looking at me.
I can’t stop looking at them.
It’s the same way even if I write,
the wallpaper has a pattern of eggs.
We have no wallpaper in our bedroom.
You’ll have to take my word for it.