Daya
Location
Your eyes like electric feel.
Cold swords to a still heart,
Dry as a pair of chapped lips.
And you, so wet and good
So new, like grassy morning dew.
Retrospect, my love back home
Bearing down autumn leaves.
How the girl used to be gold
And she, tired and bored
Has left my digital bath long ago.
The smoothest scales, bearing fruit.
Down the halls and up the stairs.
I remain true, however, but watch you
Bringing beauty of golden ratios
Like the hearty songs on my radio.