Slanting

Eyes of vaguest winter

Sweet current of the river

Silenced still

Eyes of the coldest shoulder

Hushing me to sleep

Lucid like a lily

Slowly dying

In snow

And icicles but weeping

Shedding the most frail tears

Eyes of naked hazel

Eyes of vaguest winter

Soon spring...

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A perfect circle never leans, and is never on a slant...like her eyes of the most frail shiver...

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