every blink of cerulean eyes. a peek into yesterday and a glance of what tomorrow might be.
cerulean eyes, lovely as can be, are dead under street lights.
cerulean eyes, lonely as can be, puffs cigarettes for dinner. He waits for the brown ones of his lover.
cerulean eyes reminiscences a love story so unlikely his own, trapped inside four memory walls as a pair of footsteps approaches his shadow.
he smiles down on chocolate irises holding his cold hands. cerulean eyes sadly smiles and i glance at his pupils in hopes of seeing what their tomorrow might be.
it's empty.
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MIDSUMMER THOUGHTS ➸ poetry & prose
PoetryIn midsummer, my mind wanders. To a faraway place, above the clouds, the stars, and the universe. Just to tap your shoulder.
