Tuesday, August 26, 2014

A map

If i could 
number the stars
in your eyes

they would be
raindrops and paint
spun off a wheel

to count them
follow butterflies
trace a map

etched deep
in grey-blue lines
on my scalp

and then wait
let the hair grow
playful waves

hiding. . .  only just. . . 
scruffling me

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