Eyelands

The Entrance to the Eternal

Little islands in her eyes, those celestial pearls,

rock and shake with hot earthquakes and liquid fire

of angst and desire, fear and trepidation —

Or is it elation? — It catches her off guard as she slips

into the shadows of her aching nightmares; her love affairs

that tweaked and twisted the rhythm of her life,

like a knife, into a birdsong of hope and renewal.

She’s such a fool!

In her torn and shattered cavern of yearning and anger,

she lingers and whispers to the company of ghosts

whose energy remains and stains the walls with a scent of sage

and rosemary, a mystery of exaltation and obscurity.

Little starlit rockets in her eyes, those enigmatic gems,

burst and break with a force of a thousand rivers

raging with ruthless and savage abandon, then stranded

with no sea to call home.

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