Your sun sets
behind your eyes
as the rain begins to pour
over mine.
The sky is a sieve
letting only jeweled drops in
gleaming damp veils adorned
the leafless trees as they mourn
our passing through the between
from one light to the next tunneled only by our vision of each other,
slightly blurred at the edges where we've faded, more brilliant at our core.
Face to face, eye to eye,
dilate,
gaze into the black wells
pouring out and filling luminous
under the sickle moon cleaving the night
from its tiny bejeweled passenger's eyes
folding flaps of sky over the holes stitching them up with frayed threads
quilting for you and I
to sit on the precipice warm
and watch the sun rise
YOU ARE READING
Confusion in Underground Clouds
PoetryThis is a collection of assorted poems, detailing one consciousness extending and swirling into another, and another, and another.
