Gypsy Eyes
The pierce, the flame of gypsy eyes, that roam
about your cheeks aflame, that throb at knees.
The negligee reveals bride’s honeycomb —
a poetry of bees, posthumously.
Recover not from burn of jealous lips —
Soft greed of ruby smooth, the tender slide,
the way she moves - compare to buoyant ships —
they trim your sails, so succulent and wide.
You must come down to earth — the dock awaits
its berth. Noncompliant lovers doth crash
against the water’s edge with crazy eights.
It’s much too soon to squash its tease and splash.
Her eyes astir — their closed next to your heart.
The wild rose of her hair — your counterpart.
2/28/2020
Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2020
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