If only
I could put the corners of your eyes
Into words
They would be like
The skin that sits on custard
And crinkles
Or they would be
The shattering of sunlight
Over leaf-spears
That toy it apart into
Forkfuls of sweet butter
Or they would be
The winkles around the heart
Of a daffodil
One day growing,
The next dying
But always yellow
I don't much like the colour yellow
But there's a richness to it
And a glassiness
And an optimistic up-swing
That I see in the corners of your blue eyes
If only
I could put the corners of your eyes into words
Because we've all sold out
Of happy poems.
We've all sold out of happy poems
All the new poems on my feed this morning
Hated life
And most of my own do to
So
Why not
Try to amend this?