Lentes.

I’m beginning to write poems about your glasses

How they rest so comfortable on your face

I’m writing about the black rims that surround your eyes every day

Perfectly shaped to your features

I’m starting to write about how i want to hand them to you every morning

How i want to see my reflection on them as i lean in to kiss you

Hand them to me

I’ll wipe off the water stains with my shirt for you

Take them off when you fall asleep in bed while reading

I’ll keep them on my nightstand, my darlin’