Dear, your eyes are not the stars

They are not the stars

Though when we watched the cars

Blur along the highway

I felt you

And when the red tip of your cigarette

Crumbled in the river

I knew that we were fine

Because the stars in the sky

Were always too distant

To compare to what I knew,

Could never be so far

One Response to “I keep your light pressed in a book”

  1. Kate Cavallaro Says:

    Lovely. Well done. Its impressionistic, but I like the image you evoke.


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