There are minutes that grow silence in my eyes:
Where are the clouds moving? you ask.
The evening sky with low clouds is dim.
To your hair, I say.
Is that why my eyes can rain?
That's why your eyes can rain.
Are my eyebrows not thick enough
to ward off? you ask while
raising your eyebrows. It shouldn't reach!
The drizzle outside the window, do you see?
You put your forehead against the window glass.
You wince.
Cold, you say, holding my hand.
The glass conveys the cold outside
to the inside.
Every boundary can
become a bridge.
So is this hug: crossing the warmth
of my shoulder to your shoulder
my fireflies to your heart
butterflies to your smile.
What is this for? You try to ask
when I kiss your hair while closing my eyes.
To divert those clouds
from my eyes, I say.
I am not such a poem reader, no reader at all but there's something in it. The eyebrows for example. Indeed present for a reason and as I read it I kept thinking: why do we plug them out?
I have a question: how com you never receive upvotes.
Why do you keep posting.
Why don't you ever respond to a comment?
Are you a bot
(Published through Steemit Dapp https://boylikegirl.club)
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