When eyes meet eyes

The earth revolves
slowly
in the blink of an
eternity
Where morning bird-calls
are written for
foolish stuff
And little details of
reality
are lost with black ink
Sometimes we dream
of guitar strings
in the afternoon
plucked to the tempo of
my compositions
for you
While quiet cremations
are sung in the evening
Where there seems to be
stale words
and dried teardrops
in the corners of
my mouth
only to find out it
is a tragedy
of a heart
breaking
No, not mine
but yours

When eyes meet eyes

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