To Live Beyond The Sunrise! Poem by Mark Heathcote

Better you just dry those sopping-wet big eyes
What's the point in both of us weeping?
Surely you can't now coquettishly disguise
The ways, in which I'm cut, the way I am bleeding
Hide as you always have: Count daily the magpies?

Better you just dry those dual-copiloting empty eyes
Harden even more that propelled wooden heart.
For all its yearly ringed ambiguous lies
They're no-more then death-nails sweetheart.
They're no-more than drawn-out salty goodbyes.

Better you just dry those sea-green tigress eyes
Look to where this new dawn for me will surly-rise
Look there! Where hurt erupts but now subsides
Old-flame you can no-longer hope to hypnotize.
For within your tears little else than nothing belies.

Better I then just dry my own two jaded eyes.
Hide not as you would: Count not as you have.
Daily on this mystical earth the magpies?
But with one lover eternally anoint and salve
Embalm my soul to live beyond the sunrise.