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Poem to His Eyes
That blue
spills out of his eyes
like ocean waves dancing
to the melody of the moon’s magnetism.
High tide or low tide,
I walk in the endless sea of his eyes
until I lose sight of the shore.
Neck deep in that boundless blue,
I sink in the endless sea of his eyes
until I drown.
That gray
glimmers in his gaze
as grainy as an old film in rewind:
it brings me back to the start.
It brings me back to sleepless nights
searching for stars
in the infinite sky of his eyes.
Nights spent softly sighing in the stillness
beneath the specks of incandescent silver
in the infinite sky of his eyes.
There’s a certain sadness
a certain sentient
a certain sense of solitude.
When I look into his eyes
Really look into his eyes,
it’s a reflection of my own.
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This is a little poem about a friend of mine. A curious thing about him was that he always looked into my eyes when we talked, studying my expression. I remember feeling like he just knew me down to my very soul.