Dear love,

Your eyes

Grey

And sad,

Above your nose,

Asymmetrical,

Carrying weight

Life bestowed.

And every time I see them,

A dark galaxy unfolds,

Of faults,

Of grieves,

Of beauty,

Of honesty,

Greatly misunderstood.

But every time you smile,

They lit up,

Fallen ashes,

Turn gold.

New beginnings,

Many, not one.

Arrives,

A chance for me

To make things right again,

Before it gets greatly misunderstood

--

--

--

From Malaysia. A business owner. A painter and a closet poet. Hates roaches.

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Beata Beatrix

Beata Beatrix

From Malaysia. A business owner. A painter and a closet poet. Hates roaches.

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