i know it's a cliché,
but i love your eyes.
the way flecks of gold
mix with the green-blue
of your iris
like the way
the sunset dances
on the ocean
before the sky
turns a midnight blue
YOU ARE READING
growing seeds from wilted roses
Poetrydear reader, my friend, please be gentle for you are reading pieces of my heart written onto these pages for your eyes to read and for your heart to feel.
