Blink the
drapes
promise me
just a peek
into the
whole you
Some
light filters through
nocturnal
pupils wink
in
growing view
The
horizon waits
posing at
a distance
closer
than infinity
Muted
dimensions bleed over
open
endlessly, unraveling
before
me, after you
Swallowing
the hole
lingering
note, an after taste
foreshadowing
hues cast
between
you and I
a line is
strung
will you
touch it
with your
wise
eyes?
Composed 6/20/15.
Image of painting by Paul Émile Chabas [Public domain], Nymph, (1869-1937) via Wikimedia Commons.
