The Observer Effect
Behind sixty centimeters of finger-smudged glass, the ink
eye of an octopus gazes back
The aquarium is kid busy, and you stand
stalk silent, searching
that strange pupil for answer:
the octopus whisks an arm
and slaps it
to the tank, connection clear. I can’t stop staring
at the reflected profile of your body
through the viewfinder. This
multitude of air bubbles shimmering every hue to the surface,
on the carnival of your face.
Finger against the glass against suckers against the glass.
You are the pupil. Black.The water
an explosion of iris.
About the Author: Kat Lewis is a poet and photographer from Northwestern Pennsylvania. She is currently a MFA candidate in Poetry at the University of Idaho. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Meadow, The Superstition Review, Santa Clara Review, Flyway, and elsewhere. She lives and teaches in Moscow, Idaho.