(oh yes, and thanks for IT's and modern technology, oh, dear world. i do so adore u for that :P... lots of everything else gets reproach, sulking and a basic sigh as i move forth to deal. it's funness, no?) well... this one, idk... i liked it and came up w/ it sometime, thinking about somewhat, but... (yeah, and that tells u a lot :P)... well, i'm sure u can think of sth on ur own :P...
your windows are your eyes to your souls
you reach over
right over the breakfast table
and the coffee
and the eggs
and this morning’s newspaper
over the salt and the sugar
and the accompanying cream and milk
to tug on the thread of my eyes
that leads down to my soul
that leads down to my heart
up above (and through) the smell that remains solely me
(that smell you and i can never seem to get enough of)
an aura of green and blue, and perhaps a deep teal
and a breath of fresh,
winter
summer
fall
air
that we’ve never seen before
(yes, the spring that eludes me, still)
and you yank, just a little harder
so that my insides become out
my heart and intestines
my soul
(that thing)
that makes me, me
regurgitates on a silver platter before you
to be served on silver hardware
and silver services
(by delicate French maids,
and elegant English butlers)
why do I intend to keep your heart next to mine?
locked in a box
hung on a chain
right above my rib cage
on the left most side
when it needs to be free?
and fly like a bird
a wheeling kite on shaky wings
above the trees
and mountains,
who tilt their faces upwards
waiting for the kiss of the clouds
and the tears that is rain
to fall and slide down a cheek
that is smooth and green
like the aura of your smile
after your first cup of cool tea in the morning
after we get out of bed, tangled in crumpled sheets
after a night of sighs of content and hearts that will not go unwound.
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