Left.

To see the girl with a
storm in her eye, on
the edge of a cyclonic spiral
which descends on us like
Neptune’s monstrous finger
scooping depths of the ocean
dug and spattered across the land
a whole world held dumb in the calming core
a multitude of weathered men
sheltering beneath the telly
while the torrent lashes outside their door
while a spinning calamity surrounds them

Right.

Now I retreat to her eye however
from the edge of its lucid shore where
another storm beckons looking
somewhat like a tempestuous sty
I hoped to dive into her eye
deep below the frantic world
and swim in her emerald vision
of a better world,
her heart a raging storm
her mind seeking a moral harbor
graced with tolerance
and rewarded with pearls deeper
than you can imagine
to dive into that storm
the spiralling star
thinking of Jupiter
its dimple of maelstrom
spinning into the vacuity of space
which rarely listens.