Zee End: Miss. Revision

Sepia eyes
just one color
of the rainbow
mounted above a wrinkled nose,
brown and worn-out.
With two
cheekbones big
enough to bridge
over this face and the next,
even over the old Miss. river,
with those sepia
eyes like spotlights
precipitating over
the murky depths
of secrets below,
and supported
by pillars of
hopes and dreams,
and lips kept
moist by the
soft licks of exhaust
from vehicles,
dripping into
steady rivers
down to the
cliff of a very pointed chin,
tickled by little fish
that bite and
run away.
Broken dreams
and loves that shatter
into blackened shards
big enough
to break a small heart
and then crush
those sepia eyes,
stabbing their
gentle retinas,
close to where the
rain shrinks into tiny tears
that break up,
as the soft throat disembogues
clear, crystallized blood,
all over the old Miss. river.