Weft: all my

            silver linings loop in the gossamer warp of

your eyelashes. 

Your brown eyes are silver at the roots, geyser-swept like a witan’s feathered coif;

scattered like penny kissed well wishes in mage-indigo gales; 

(your) Eyes are svelte as limestone bell towers, and 

cool as castled salt stone &

               iceberg-greys on gilded waters peopled by whiskered seals and floes;

Your eyes (which are Repunzel-hair long with unbleached roots, and Cinderella slipper in color) stop me with their speaking.

There were

letters of g o l d that

answered                no

when I asked you to marry

me.

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