YOUR EYES Your eyes are blue as the sea, I once wrote, but now, I ask you to forgive me; for the sea cloaks itself in any grey cloud that wanders by, tears at the shingle and wears its sallow skin, coats itself in oil-slicks and blood. The sea bobs its tin cans until they rust, fills them with itself, then spills out in search of new emptiness. In any case, your eyes are green. |