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Jun 2018
quiet in a cafe, early morning
the dust rises
off the pavement outside
the birds are chirping again
after a very long time of silence.
i sit and think of my new life, my plans,
the life unknown
i think of strange landscapes and snow leopards in caves
the apple trees which will soon blossom,
african skies,
the planet neptune
the sun or the ocean's mist on my naked skin
and crowns made of flowers
chandeliers in old libraries
and the steel of your eyes
the sharpness of your eyes
the cold eyes
your eyes empty
the green of your eyes
your eyes staring at me
i see your face
the softness of your eyes
i see your face
the green eyes sad and staring
achy green eyes hoping
i'm flooded with your scent
and the oppression of your memory
rising in me
like the street dust rising outside
and a force
pulls something from my throat
like a plea
like a begging
i say your name
Cristina Dean
Written by
Cristina Dean
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   Woody
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