eyes are the windows to the soul
yours are not windows
you house a star, fallen and crushed
reaching for worlds to devour
let me be enveloped a while more
let me see what storm lies within
a hurricane from warm seas breathing a home
YOU ARE READING
A Game of Three, Two
PoetryThree: the chance of being here Two: until you were (a book of mostly freestyle poetry, updated sporadically)
