I've left my eyelashes on your windowsill.
My eyes burning in the middle of the night
Made me take them off.
Those nights, too drunk or high to drive home.
I would stay in your bed.
A peice of moon peeking out behind the old curtain.
Mine were always closed up tight,
Blinds and curtains.
Fears of being watched, invaded
By that which is not here.
Afraid to know-
Who are you?
What is on your eyes?
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