August 14, 2008
By christine garibian, Glendale, CA

Someone told me your eyes have a song.
She said they never hit a note wrong.
Clear and pure, no lyrics at all,
Ringing bells, so deep they lull.

She said to beware of this melody,
No matter how sweet or melancholy.
Those eyes are sirens, they lure to kill,
Pull you deep down where to live you need gills.

Now I am stuck in this bottomless well,
Intoxicated by the sound of bells.
Your lips are my only air supply.
Cut off—there is no choice but to die.

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