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Maps of Eyes

Poetry

'Maps of Eyes' (c) A.R. Minhas 2019

Lathered in buttermilk,

She pours the wine from the roof of her mouth

"My sprite queen, do you accept the carbonation I offer?"


She stares with those Sugar Glider eyes,

Bubbles refract her tongue.

"This isn't love..."

We had bed bugs for protein

And do you remember the taste of freshly cut grass?


I never complain

No, you will not hear a peep from me

I know the way to your eyes

Pupils dilate. I dream a blue dream.


Distances warped in magical twilight

And your stippled flesh legs

Gunshot smoke on my mind

My body aches for the chemicals you produce.


And I stare at you transfixed when you change into your new clothes

Geometry in Motion

I know the static of your face

Your lips were made for me to rest my weary head.

And I can trace your bones from my forefinger,

The sound of your body

A gurgling sound of flood water rising.


We bathe in each other’s presence

As the fire burns our thoughts.


© A.R. Minhas 2019

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