it is the eyes
i realise
when looking
as i do
when searching
(as i want not to but need)
for something that says
yes?
perhaps inflected as a question, as
a thought, a hesitancy only
not as affirmation
or commitment, as
an option to
connect –*
a possibility of tendernesses
be they real, imaginary or
relived as confirmation, as some
memories
of things to come, i give them
equal weightlessness, they are
but temporary, filigree
they may not be
the substance
or the solid core
the scaffold or the frame
on which the edifice of life is built
yet they are delicate
refined
exquisite
joyful
brief
but lasting
in their value
in their glow.*
i cannot take my eyes off you
no matter who you are, i see in you
the multitudes of selves reflected that i love
i need you not
to be mine
or to tell me
that i’m dear to you, or let alone
unique
i need you only to
smile back at me
and let those windows to your soul say
maybe: maybe.*
maybe that which you are looking for
that which you see in me
that which you never thought of to declare
but daily yearn to live
to give and to receive
that which you know though you may not have words for it
that which you never knew but always knew would one day find you
that which is you, that
which is you
may yet, may: just
may, yet
be
THE BOURNEMOUTH & BOSCOMBE TRILOGY — Pyromania [1] (>)
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EDEN by FREI 