To...
Her eyes
flaps their wings like a hummingbird.
Unsure of fleeting instances and fleeting pupils,
she captures miniscule hearts
which will fade with time.
Her tiny hands,
place aspirations in april,
then removes maladies in may
with tears.
She knows the answer
is love,
but she is still wrong.
Her lightning bolt rapture
will not come with the love of another,
yet with love of self
the sun will dance on it’s cloud shelf
and throw down blessings
on her crowning circlet.
The morning grass will anticipate
kissing her bare feet every morning,
and the air will be happy air.
If only she could remove the cloth
from her blindfolded eyes
she could comprehend a real caress,
a real love.
flaps their wings like a hummingbird.
Unsure of fleeting instances and fleeting pupils,
she captures miniscule hearts
which will fade with time.
Her tiny hands,
place aspirations in april,
then removes maladies in may
with tears.
She knows the answer
is love,
but she is still wrong.
Her lightning bolt rapture
will not come with the love of another,
yet with love of self
the sun will dance on it’s cloud shelf
and throw down blessings
on her crowning circlet.
The morning grass will anticipate
kissing her bare feet every morning,
and the air will be happy air.
If only she could remove the cloth
from her blindfolded eyes
she could comprehend a real caress,
a real love.