Work Text:
Dirty In Your Eyes
By Joan Z.
I come home with a yearning
You have kept the home fires burning,
I look at you amid my sighs
And you have dirty in your eyes.
I pour the wine in fluted glass
We drink to joy that will not pass
A candle burns and flickers wise
And I see dirty in your eyes.
We climb the stairs, to an open a door
You ask for wine, I pour you more,
And still I see, no love denies
the beauty of dirty in your eyes.
Joan Z