Smearing the Sunset with Your Eyes

Golden sunset glow drips down my skin, slanting the shadows and drifting the blaze of the hot summer gaze. I want to smear the sunset with something other than the orange light, how about I paint it with the colour of your deep brown eyes? Bold on your eyelashes that guard the windows of your soul. Like picket fences caging the wild horses that refuse to be tamed, every time I look into the colours of coffee-roast, I ask for to be named.

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