8/3/13:
It is significantly odd how a certain soul can brighten your eyes like Orion's slate of suns.
But she does.
When she speaks about the things she loves,
she's cinematic.
Still, she is my aurora and dawn-
a shyly spun arrow strung from a plush bow.
How right away, I'd live to mold her sound hands,
how I'd die to be halcyon-
plucked up from the astronaut that lightens my eyes like the bullet of a gun.
I need her stars to linger in my sky,
not like the others, the comets that met my eyes for only a moment.
Because after all, she brightens my eyes like Orion's slate of suns,
she does.
YOU ARE READING
The Sagittarius
PoetryThe Sagittarius is a chronological collection of poems I've written over the past year and a half that are all specific to one topic. Some are very brief and some are longer.
