Light Is Mornings Eyes
Light is mornings eyes;
and as they open, so do mine.
I watch the sun watch me through the window.
A submersed dream , floating to the surface of the water.
Just visible enough to see through hazy ripples.
My eyelashes; a pair of soldiers working on a compromise.
Shuttering in protection.
Holding back the day;
and what's left of a dream.
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