Friday 18 September 2015

brown eyes .

you burned the inside of my eyelids —
flashes of
           the morning sun waking up
                                                       to stripe your back through the blinds,
                    water falling across mid-summer skin,
        lashes folding up so close i can feel the breeze,
                   dimples,
                               dimples,
                   dimples.

and your eyes are not the colour of
                                          milked down chocolate
          or silt and soil
                                like you claim —

          they're cherry wood and honey
warm & light & deep & rich —
                        and they don't look away
                                     even when i can hardly breathe
                                                            under their heaviness.

and those eyes read me like a book
                       steady and linear
           one page to the next until you were done
                                                    and i had no more stories left to share.

but i read you like a poem
                        doubling back and again
                                              stuck and gasping
                     at one verse, one word, one jawline
                                         wondering,
                                                          always,
                       how many ways one could interpret
                                            you.

S.

4 comments:

  1. Good GOSH. you have so much talent for writing and I mean that so sincerely I could burst. Reading like a book vs. a poem. that's brilliant. it describes the dynamic of so many relationships. to consider someone a poem. what a wildly romantic thought. cherry wood and honey? I can hardly handle this. So beautiful.

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  2. How this poem is shaped held against its content is breathtaking. I'm a sucker for good formatting that lends itself to the story inside of a poem. This is beyond perfect. You are so talented, girl. I adore whenever you post.

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  3. I often wonder how many ways I could interpret him... oh and the dimples... wow... You are such a gifted writer who always makes me think S... xox

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