Concert Queen

Her eyes
like two white
Spanish guitars.
Brown holes,
black pupil strings.
Eyelashes laced,
intertwining tuning pegs.

When she stares,
when she stares,
angels play her eyes,
and I sit there,
her enchanted audience,
listening to the divine music
of her glances,
tossing roses at her feet,

at her floating feet.

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