Your Eyes In Tears Poem by gregory collins

Death awaits, breathless in grief.
Where sea and seashore dance,
like a dancer with no hips.
Looking at what flashes golden
and strikes me speechless

and in every mirror,
the lights hold her hair,
and her naked body repeats itself
by being punctured through and through:
The darkness wet to the bone with tears,
looking at me playing games forever

But the moon does not drink with its suitors,
and i would have not suspected a choice of sunrises
must be eaten in the mirrorettes inside her;
A choice to stir suspicions like praying to someone
you might not love anymore

and i always slip and start counting over.
While remembering to ask questions they will not hear,
when lifting revolution's veil above the thin waist at my doorway;
When i gave up on fame cause i do not need another lover.