Neon Colors.

His blue eyes
are like the moon
dropped in Arctic water.

Haven I fallen in,
lost myself in modesty,
that may or may not
be there?

I thought the pages ahead
were blank,
bleak,
bleached white,
like dry humour.

You've made me smile.
Thought I'd forgotten
how to show
tha genuine crinkle.

And now the days,
they've filled with neon.

Color before my eyes.

- - -

...Do I have a muse? It could be so.

But I'm proud of this peice. I think I'm starting to become more aware of the rythmn in the text, and I like this one much more than any of my others thus far. That's going to be my goal when writing poetry: to find the rythmn and focus in on that. I guess that means I better start reading more poetry. :)

So I know that this update is long and far past it due date, but I promise I'll try to be more regular. Real life has certainly got the better of me.