Rain in November

Rain in November

Your eyes are shut.

I see eyelids.

whitewash walls,

cobwebbed blue

I see lashes.

dark lines,

lying honestly

against warm skin

I press my lips against

those lashes,

those lids

(the rain slides down

our faces)

I christen those blue lids

with pink lips.

Image by Moyan Brenn on Flickr.

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