a feeling of mustard
sweeps through me
it's esoteric strokes
cradling my essence,
pooling at my feet,
downing in drowsiness.

   -if sunny was a feeling.

The quarrel of the sparrows in the eaves,
The full round moon and the star-laden sky,
And the loud song of the ever-singing leaves,
Had hid away earth's old and weary cry.

And then you came with those red mournful lips,
And with you came the whole of the world's tears,
And all the trouble of her laboring ships,
And all the trouble of her myriad years.

And now the sparrows warring in the eaves,
The curd-pale moon, the white stars in the sky,
And the loud chaunting of the unquiet leaves,
Are shaken with earth's old and weary cry.

The green in his eyes are a radiant emerald. A green that pushed through snow reminding you that spring was coming. That churning, passionate green that ocean turns during a storm. A green resembling the color of the forest after it rains. A luminous layer of water lays over the leaves, giving them the exquisite form like the eye of the Wizard of Oz. A soft green like an old sweater that's been washed too many times. A piercing green that made you stop to look again after a glimpse, one that made you look twice because once could never satisfy. Sunlight plays inside of them, dancing with pools of pine. Your eyes lure in innocence and twist it into ivy vineyards. I cannot resist them, I never could.

i wish to unmeet you
         only to meet you again.