Sunday, November 17, 2002

My Eyes To Paradise

As rain falls angrily on our tin roof,
we sit in front of the fire,
you draw me near,
you ask me about the diamonds in my eyes.

I reply that you should look closer,
look and read what is behind,
my eyes are just a reflection of what is inside,
and you took my advice.

Oh you dense black hole,
you are confused so easily,
gaze into my eyes,
and kiss me-we are one.

As you see,
I am ready to be held,
I miss the way you look at me,
and I miss the way you can tell.





Copyright 2002. All Rights Reserved.

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