Pillow Canyon

Oh, that space.
That space between your pillow and your face.
Beside your brow end.
Where your eye searches, wild, watery.
That space a canyon. A parting.
A pout.
Slide down your bright nose.
That space in your mouth.
I push my tongue in.
Light particles burst, Cerulean blue.
What parts were dark red – now hot blue.
Your canyons I fly through.


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