Girl With Yellow Eyes
© Surazeus
2018 04 05
The white horse gallops down the marble hall
through the bright labyrinth where mirrors shine
with faces of people whose names I write
on flowing water with rays of my eyes.
The girl in black lace dress with yellow eyes
points to the sky where silver starship floats,
then leads me to the pond of singing swans
where I sit on the lily pad and fish.
The rainbow dragon rises from the pond,
disturbing mirror where I saw my soul,
and whispers soft as lightning about love
that weaves silk threads to sew my wounded heart.
The white horse nudges my head with her nose
so I offer the pear I stole from Death
and walk beside her through the misty vale
where skull of my mother whispers to me.
The girl in black lace dress with yellow eyes
turns around and weeps rain that stings our skin,
asking me how I could forget her name
so I invent new name for her to wear.
Removing my face to release the owl
of my mind, who beams moonlight in my void,
the girl adjusts the swift revolving gears
of my heart, then twists my eyes upside down.
We walk together in the mirror hall,
holding hands as infinite rainbow loop
spirals atoms between our pulsing hearts
to fuel the engine of tales we design.
The owl explains how lightning flashes link
billions of neurons in galactic vortex
that forms enormous mask of pulsing stars
which I wear to be One with our White Whole.
The girl with yellow eyes gives me old key
shaped like the sun with beaming rays of faith
so I open tower door to her sanctum
where she weaves threads of love into my brain.
Together in the window of the tower
the girl with yellow eyes and I sing spells
that conjure angels from our sparkling words
who dance around us while we exchange eyes.
I stack ten thousand stones in paradise
of surrounding walls to protect her garden
where she tends fruit trees on warm sunny day
while I talk to the white horse about water.
The old woman fades into garden soil
and seven little girls sprout from her eyes
who sew owl wings on my bleeding shoulders,
then we wear star masks to dream the White Hole.
© Surazeus
2018 04 05
The white horse gallops down the marble hall
through the bright labyrinth where mirrors shine
with faces of people whose names I write
on flowing water with rays of my eyes.
The girl in black lace dress with yellow eyes
points to the sky where silver starship floats,
then leads me to the pond of singing swans
where I sit on the lily pad and fish.
The rainbow dragon rises from the pond,
disturbing mirror where I saw my soul,
and whispers soft as lightning about love
that weaves silk threads to sew my wounded heart.
The white horse nudges my head with her nose
so I offer the pear I stole from Death
and walk beside her through the misty vale
where skull of my mother whispers to me.
The girl in black lace dress with yellow eyes
turns around and weeps rain that stings our skin,
asking me how I could forget her name
so I invent new name for her to wear.
Removing my face to release the owl
of my mind, who beams moonlight in my void,
the girl adjusts the swift revolving gears
of my heart, then twists my eyes upside down.
We walk together in the mirror hall,
holding hands as infinite rainbow loop
spirals atoms between our pulsing hearts
to fuel the engine of tales we design.
The owl explains how lightning flashes link
billions of neurons in galactic vortex
that forms enormous mask of pulsing stars
which I wear to be One with our White Whole.
The girl with yellow eyes gives me old key
shaped like the sun with beaming rays of faith
so I open tower door to her sanctum
where she weaves threads of love into my brain.
Together in the window of the tower
the girl with yellow eyes and I sing spells
that conjure angels from our sparkling words
who dance around us while we exchange eyes.
I stack ten thousand stones in paradise
of surrounding walls to protect her garden
where she tends fruit trees on warm sunny day
while I talk to the white horse about water.
The old woman fades into garden soil
and seven little girls sprout from her eyes
who sew owl wings on my bleeding shoulders,
then we wear star masks to dream the White Hole.
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