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III
Poems
Jan 2018
The Tree With At Least Two Faces
I used to be afraid
Of eyes deep and fierce,
Frightened that if I
Looked too close,
They'd melt my skin
And pierce my throat,
But a gaze from you,
Sturdy and built
Upon a lip biting
Tension practically manifested
In the cool winter air
Between our noses I
Wish were touching,
A glance like that
From eyes like yours
Begs me to yearn
Your permission to
Lose myself in them.
Written by
III
Chicago
(Chicago)
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