Something about his eyes


Crinkle lines about his eyes.
I do not think of them as wrinkles.
Wrinkles are not such good things,
while these crinkles enchant my eye.

Shy smiles are his specialty.
Though he has conquered
all other traces of it
elsewhere.

His laugh is a joy to hear
but he gifts it only rarely
and only to ones who earn it.
Patience is a virtue.

It is his eyes, however,
that does my girlish heart in,
finishes me completely

His eyes
something about his eyes

they speak
with words that whisper
of warm covers
and sweet embraces
gentle murmers in the night
and moments
in silence
when words spark
like fire
from his eyes.

Something about his eyes

makes me know him
makes me see his soul

with one look
one single look
I knew.

Something about his eyes

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