I
used to visit France
every time I looked at you
because I saw France in your eyes.
I am there
now
as a constellation,
hanging from the Big Dipper
along the roof of stars
stirred
like a snowglobe,
as a tinier version of yourself, old soul . . .
new soul
amongst the purified fluff
of flowers
that you viewed perpetually
in all of those dreamlike terrains.
Eye without periphery—
North Star’s chemicals ‘
d ‘
r ‘
i ‘
p ‘
every time I looked at you
because I saw France in your eyes.
I am there
now
as a constellation,
hanging from the Big Dipper
along the roof of stars
stirred
like a snowglobe,
as a tinier version of yourself, old soul . . .
new soul
amongst the purified fluff
of flowers
that you viewed perpetually
in all of those dreamlike terrains.
Eye without periphery—
North Star’s chemicals ‘
d ‘
r ‘
i ‘
p ‘
onto blank pages,
appears like a Troubadour’s song
at your front door.
appears like a Troubadour’s song
at your front door.
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