Friday, February 4, 2011

your eyes

steal refection and funnel
it away to be lost
within you

blind my mouth and
my hands with
deeper hues than
a painter's dream
or a lover's last words

are my favorite
season trapped somewhere
between a friday in fall
and a spring night warm
enough to leave our jackets
behind

stall me
before i remember
my defenses
before i remember
to dismantle yours

argue with midnight
for the chance to
steal the sky's light
and fill the air
with their totality

are what i first
remembered about
you

and why i have trouble
remembering anything
else

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