December Eyes

She sees you with December eyes,

The sleep-laden eyelids,

Frosted lenses and an inkling

Of fog all over the corneae,

That way she can only make out

The shape of your face

So if she’d ever have to conjure

Your image up from a memory,

She wouldn’t know where to begin,

But she wouldn’t make any mistake.

©Aaysid

“If I had a flower for every time I thought of you…I could walk through my garden forever.”
Alfred Tennyson

Featured image from Pexels

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