Ah! how the memory of
those pretty green eyes
enlighten my senses
making them parallel to
round ***** of safety.
Ah! how those eyes
regurgitate and bounce
pupils widening whenever
my eyes meet their gaze
wavering and moving from
person to person in an intimate crowded group setting.
Ah! how those eyes
which resemble soft moss
or the slick flesh of kiwis
stare at mine catching like how
flypaper catches mosquitoes
accidentally but intentionally
awkwardly but inventively
and ultimately intentionally.
Ah! how the memory of
those pretty green eyes
throw me off balance
when they lock into mine
and for a good ten seconds
merging a little too long
unnoticed by the crowd.
Ah! how those eyes
are like ghosts in my
memories so valid and
plausible they seem to
drift yet knowing they
will be seen tonight
creates a fidgety hope
splintered and shaking
within this hubris heart.
Ah! how those eyes
are framed by the
curliest of lashes
so cute they bloom
ripe smiles within this
here empty chest cavity
which seems to be defeated
at the moment but somehow
waiting to witness
orbs of stegosaurus skin
shelled and shellacked and unbuckled am i
at just a smack.
Ah! how those eyes
are like a slap
to my psyche.
Every part a swirling mass
of unabridged uncertainty.
And no matter how it seems
those irises of gold and green
will always be downright dainty.
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 2:16 PM UTC
Ah! how the memory of
those pretty green eyes
enlighten my senses
making them parallel to
round ***** of safety.
Ah! how those eyes
regurgitate and bounce
pupils widening whenever
my eyes meet their gaze
wavering and moving from
person to person in an intimate crowded group setting.
Ah! how those eyes
which resemble soft moss
or the slick flesh of kiwis
stare at mine catching like how
flypaper catches mosquitoes
accidentally but intentionally
awkwardly but inventively
and ultimately intentionally.
Ah! how the memory of
those pretty green eyes
throw me off balance
when they lock into mine
and for a good ten seconds
merging a little too long
unnoticed by the crowd.
Ah! how those eyes
are like ghosts in my
memories so valid and
plausible they seem to
drift yet knowing they
will be seen tonight
creates a fidgety hope
splintered and shaking
within this hubris heart.
Ah! how those eyes
are framed by the
curliest of lashes
so cute they bloom
ripe smiles within this
here empty chest cavity
which seems to be defeated
at the moment but somehow
waiting to witness
orbs of stegosaurus skin
shelled and shellacked and unbuckled am i
at just a smack.
Ah! how those eyes
are like a slap
to my psyche.
Every part a swirling mass
of unabridged uncertainty.
And no matter how it seems
those irises of gold and green
will always be downright dainty.
