Carson Vol. 1

Warmth at Last

A fireplace crackling,
Your laugh and my heart—
Cheeks flushing like a dancing flame,
And my lips, tinted with your name.

Eyes bright like the sparkling sun—
Warm, not burning me down.
Slowly unraveling,
Leaving me undone.

A heat I’ve only ever felt in dreams,
A glowing candle flickering;
Golden flecks, not withered ash—
My life blooms again in your light.


Like Sun, Like Moon

Your name is a prayer on my lips,
And mine is a curse on yours.

Your sweetness—a softness in your glance,
And mine is harsh, fiery, dangerous.

Your whispered murmurs of admiration,
And mine—echoes of insatiable desire.

Your voice drifts through my mind each night,
And I dream about your eyes.


Green

Green eyes like Gatsby’s light—
My longing, my hope,
My American Dream.
Seems unattainable, yet the only thing
Real and worthwhile.

Green eyes like Evelyn’s dress—
Luxurious and timeless.
A love only written in fiction,
Imperfectly smitten with him.

Green eyes like emerald stones—
A richness especially made for me,
A prophecy since my birth:
Charming, sparkling, shining.

Green eyes like the start of spring,
Looking into my own—of autumn.
A fresh new beginning to my winter’s end,
A season in which I believe in.


“Your eyes asked when I met you”

I gaze into eyes as green as ferns,
Their softness, their sweetness,
And their plea: do not be the one who leaves.

How could I ever?
I’d rather break than hurt my love.
Gentle eyes, sage-tinted string,
Endlessly reining me in.

Wrap your arms around me once,
And I shall never leave.

Your lashes flutter as you sleep—
I memorize each line of your eyes.
And pray for this, eternally.


Vignettes

Sunlit apartment, warmth spilling in—
Scent on the windowsill: flowers.

Sand caught in the heels of our shoes,
Summer sun and waves of fresh water.

Your eyes, striking, against the sky;
Yellow leaves falling—take cover.

Gnawing frost, cheeks tinted pink,
Glistening lights of every color.

We could have it all, lover:
Films never made, never seen
By the eyes of another.


Miss You More

The shadow of your lips on my own,
Echoes of your quiet murmurs,
The wisps of your golden hair—
All linger, still, in my bed.

Your body, so right against my own.
Eyes, alight, glisten with stars;
The image taunts my freezing sheets.

I miss you
Like city lights miss midnight,
And how branches miss the birds
In their cold, gray winters.

I gaze into the sleepless abyss
Across the Chicago skyline,
Visualize the green light in your eyes,
And wait once more
For your candlelit return.

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