EYES
I long to lunge inside them
pierced with-what? how to say? an unnoticed sort of intensity
as if the reader had known nothing of their raw value
I long to lunge inside them
his lashes are fanned sticks opening up a glass world,
a curtain holding up a stage, looking in.
I want to hide inside them
Every day, the roundness of them pulls me closer, then tosses me back
In the end, he finds me sighing when I least expect it, and then i shiver audibly.
I want to hide inside them
even then, I still feel a sort of emptiness. he does not want me. probably he is thinking,
“I know, barely, I know you are out there somewhere ,I think”
(darling, if we walk by red storms, then maybe you will see me, and we can face them together).
Copyright 2013 Golden Star Poetry
Golden Star Poetry 