Irises crystal clear, like chandeliers,

black as a Tuesday in the 1929th year.

You’re going on about how you can’t stay awake

with lips as red as a Soviet flag waved.

You’re wearing what you know’s my favorite hair on the top of your head.

Save the wrong words for last night so they’ll never be said.

The rolling of your eyes, the subtext of your sighs,

print us the headline: two fall in love tonight.

A beautiful color, undiscovered,

never laid on by the eyes of another.

You fall asleep like an unopened letter,

thousands of thoughts now silenced forever.

As you run your hair through my fingers

I have a hold of the last four years.

You’re hiding from me your least favorite scar

safely underneath the covers.

We’ve been holding our breath for countless seasons,

waiting for the other to finally breathe in.

I still know something you never knew:

a simple understanding for the art of you

Copyright 2007 James Germain