peacock
some say the body will last
forever.
the skin sensitive to every
state,
the eyes always open
scanning the horizon,
piercing the sky,
glimpses of heaven -
that glorious shivering fan
full of sun, moon, stars.
the eyes of the universe
on us, your eyes
searching for my eyes,
blinded by glory -
our own meager glory.
here is the vault of heaven
arranged in a vase,
quivering as you walk past -
the hem of your garment,
soft
like a feather.
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