Those Eyes
I swam into those eyes,
blossoming as lotus or
Chrysanthemum in my
garden, blooming, booming,
no mascara, no eyeliner,
no swelling passion, no anxiety,
Rubric in the face,
A glassy mirror that
is reflective of ceaseless
Creation and vision,
No empires falling, no
kingdoms surrendering,
Neither irksome lust,
Nor seductive charm,
My sweet grand daughter in
Silken robes and sweet smiles.
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