If You Kissed My Eyelids If you kissed my eyelids They'd be salty You might see The iron framework Of an elevated metro Thundering under weighted Lives prodding, Indecisive And pigeon shit At our feet If you squinted with me Through black gridlines To the ceiling where Flecks of paint have Traced fortuitous inspirations Above my bed In other times There'd be amber street lamps Upon echoing cobblestones Plumes of warmth following Brisk places And through it all, the deepening blue, Salty.
Carl
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Gabrielle Grace
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