I gaze at her
with my blue eyes singing
everything
I’ve never thought.

My eyes are inhaling,
and how they manage
to breathe life in while singing,
I don’t know.

Still, I sit
with the tide that is
the pools of my eyes
beckoning, drawing
her irises up
to meet mine.

This suction, undertow,
deep inhale,
that swings, swells, breathes
so selflessly,
will pull her pupils
up unto
my own.

Her eyelids,
already open,
lift further.

Her midnights dilate,
and I don’t know
how to reconcile
that trace of love,
that hint of fondness,
trust, awed acceptance,
with the fear or startled,
vulnerable, wide-eyed
gaze.

Exposed and helpless,
she seems to stare back.

Yet still,
so very still,
she sits
by choice.

Eyes
fixed
and locked onto mine,
as though they’re grasping,
while expanding,
for anything to cling to, lest they
fall, flit, float,
or dart away,
she bids me come and
enter.

She, in control
by her conscious release,
surrenders,
shudders and tremors internally,
as I graze my mind
across her soul’s cave’s
walls.

This mine,
this cavern,
encompassed by little, soft
lashes,
I tenderly explore,
stroking,
probing slowly-
gentle,
though my heart strings vibrate
vibrantly still, as a full, strong buzz
swells somewhere near my
stomach. Her
head fills with only
silence as
the stillness of this
second spans
the ocean.

Our spirits’ hour
is two in the morn.
The extent to which we’re alone is heightened
in this quiet, stagnant,
darkened sky.

Moisture crisp,
coolness covers us.
Wild eyes let me inhabit them.
They choose, if just for a moment,
to touch,
to stay.

Ever free, rapid and alert,
her glance still stands,
its nature locked into itself,
its own-

Her sclera, or maybe her lids,
hold the amazon,
a heaving jungle,

but her irises
hold something calm,
serene.

Each fiber is tranquil beauty
melted.

No, it isn’t her that shifts;
It’s her actions-

Utter wolf while
uttering not a howl.

A hunger,
a craving for interaction
pumps softly-
silent,
steady and strong-
in the muscle of her heart,

though urge to run
may surge throughout
her veins in servant,
purple blood.

Domesticated?
Captivated.
As the deer,
she comes.

A man’s best friend
relinquishes,
absorbing
my sea sung.