The Opposite

Poem and open
have the same letters.

No, they don’t
but almost, they are
almost the same, or maybe

exactly opposite. What word?
What word is the opposite
of poem?

Truth? Then?
You? Open?

Where is the angel
for me to wrestle?

We all wear white shirts,
look into blue eyes
blue like paint
those eyes, those young
young eyes.
They can’t see the blackboard
but they see my hand
on this paper
they see everything
yet nothing, nothing at all.

Those young blue eyes
on my tired bruised hand
make the poem
open.