you have tomorrow's eyes,
as i close mine and envision
an eagle taking flight into the
red horizon, unknown, unafraid.
she's just waiting.
she keeps on waiting,
her wings have been stolen
in the night.
black hair covering
lacerations.
cognition running on
tears.
and you bore your soul
to the sun.
wings outstretched,
sun-kissed.
like your lips upon
a rose in summer.
and you wore aversion
on the tip of your finger,
i tasted it with the tip of my
tongue.
she looks like an ivory statue,
with eyes made of broken glass
unmoving, except for that
occassional shift of her eyes
and the water running down
her face when she looks
up to the moon.
you have tomorrow's eyes.
it's almost here and i
beg the sun to shine on them
and descend its lips upon
your cheek when you land
on my ground.
she looks like an ivory statue,
with eyes made of broken glass,
and you have tomorrow's eyes.
and it's here. the sun is shining.
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