grated lemon sunbeams stream
through the cracked shades in my room
setting the fuzz of your hair alight, pixie grass
and your eyes shift under their almond blankets
a fan of black lashes rippling open, open
there is a flavor to your irises, the way your pupils dilate
as if, maybe, I am the sun
Jul 16, 2012
Jul 16, 2012 at 1:11 PM UTC
grated lemon sunbeams stream
through the cracked shades in my room
setting the fuzz of your hair alight, pixie grass
and your eyes shift under their almond blankets
a fan of black lashes rippling open, open
there is a flavor to your irises, the way your pupils dilate
as if, maybe, I am the sun
(c) Brooke Otto
