The Eyes Have It
The Eyes Have It
The nakedness in her eyes
bares her soul,
so tender
her country girl image,
dancing
in full bloom,
on better days,
her eyes,
like tanning sunflowers
on a farm,
lapping the sun,
earth and water.
Her eyes,
once,
lapping,
full of life
and vigor ...
like brown sunflowers
in a garden
manicured nicely
with blue jays and rabbits
near a spring,
singing and hopping,
her touches,
so tender
and deep
in her soul,
and in her eyes.
Life once gracing her.
Loved ones, especially.
Her eyes now befallen,
the last bridge in our time.
Me.
I remember sadly
the reflection in her eyes,
they swelled,
deeply,
lonely and vacant,
with tears,
matching mine.
It was the last road
we crossed.
It was my sin.
On the precipice
was a friendship
that sank.
Her eyes, deserving,
now closed to mine.
connie pachecho
7/13/17
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