Clinking my spoon on the white ceramic
plate, I count the steamy curls from my
coffee and the spots of yellow in
your blue eyes.
I want to take this coffee, pour it straight into
my stomach. I want to take your yellow-
spotted eyes and eat them like
sweet seedless grapes,
take them in so no one
else can see.
Apr 1, 2011
Apr 1, 2011 at 5:40 AM UTC
Clinking my spoon on the white ceramic
plate, I count the steamy curls from my
coffee and the spots of yellow in
your blue eyes.
I want to take this coffee, pour it straight into
my stomach. I want to take your yellow-
spotted eyes and eat them like
sweet seedless grapes,
take them in so no one
else can see.
Request permission to use this poem