XXIX hurt eye

Tonight I only think of jagged things:
Like arrow points and scalpels, fish scales too,
A lie revealed, a cut, torn insect wings,
Spider's silk round a fly, a joint turned blue.
A morning after, sunlight in the eyes,
A crocodile's mouth, a precise wasp,
A sleepless night, a lovers final sigh,
A broken doll, two hands--once tight--unclasped.
Thin paper slicing cross an open palm,
Splinters as tiny as a grain of sand,
These move behind my eyes all the day long,
A final straw that I cannot withstand.
    To ask for softened sleep is not too much,
    Don't ever scratch your cornea, it sucks.