Lesions

She had a crystal gaze
and it burned,
reminding me of ice
and blue eyes
or perhaps
they were emerald
and I just forgot.

Lesions on a
Lost soul

I wrap the parcel,
scant possessions
of a life
that never
wanted to live.

Her eyes were green
but glass cuts
whatever its
shade or hue.







Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 470 times
Written on 2008-06-14 at 14:35

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