Young Eyes | Teen Ink

Young Eyes

September 21, 2015
By Killa BRONZE, San Francisco, California
Killa BRONZE, San Francisco, California
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Darling, I am old

And some days I don't remember
The year
And some days I don't remember
Your name
But you, my wife,
Whose laugh is a beautiful symphony
Of wind chimes
And clink of silver spoons
And a deep dong of a church bell
With smile lines creasing your eyes
Make my memories
Come flooding back to me
As if the rain had poured
On the desert that is my head
With its rich liquid and earthy taste
I remember watermelon
Dripping down your chin
As you bit into red flesh
And spit out little black bones
Cotton spaghetti strap dresses
Only fluttering in the cool evening breeze
The heavy scent of pollen
In the crisp, humid air
And my young, strong arms
Wrapped around your young body
And I remember
As you bit into that fleshy watermelon
You looked up at me with your young eyes
And you laughed your wind chime smile,
The clinking spoons
Clinking throughout my chest
The deep church bell
Vibrating throughout my body
I remember a heat in my heart
Growing and growing
The kind of feeling
That makes your stomach twist in
Happy jumps
The kind that makes you

Rationally irrational
On that delectable spring evening
I realized I had fallen
Through the heavens
Through the stars
Through the clouds
Into love with you
And even though sometimes
I don't remember your name
You still laugh
Your wind chime smile
And I am still
On this earth
In this body
In love with you
And I may just be
A crazy senile old man
But when I peer into those
Laughing, creased-smile-lined eyes,
They are still young


The author's comments:

I wanted to take a crack at writing a love open. I ended up (surprisingy) liking how it turned out. So here it is.


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