Your Eyes

                                                    For J.


Eden in ashes;                  I cannot utter
a celadon bowl                  these words
covered in dust.                when I look
Eau de Nil—a lily              into them. I
pad floating in the              cannot be a
moonlight. A                      poet until you
bobbing Bartlett                  look away—
pear. Distilled                    until I’m certain
absinthe. Chinese              that I won’t
jade—emerald in a            get kicked out
congregation of                  of this placid
smoky quartz.                    Paradise. 
Moss, and water.                        I cannot!
Green tea,                                  I cannot!
and honeydew.                           I cannot!


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