our pupils widen to let in more light so that we can see something better, but
when we see people we love, our pupils widen to take more of them in,
to drink as much of their image into our eyes as possible

my eyes change to see more of you

Like silk threads, I watched my life today
stretch taught but hold,
colleagues and friends weighted,
reaffirming their bedrock
as again plates shifted

Our watered shoots
stood bewildered but steady,
as future wounds reached them
despite our insistent gauze

Looking through windows,
we grown, choked
as other faces told our pasts again

And we fought not to feel
though we knew that we had to

Because every day’s a school day

Under the streetlights
on the corner of 11th
autumn turned into showers
your pupils reflected
seasons becoming racing beats
hours stumbling out of reach

The eyes
Windows to the soul
When it's dark
Mind awakens
Always whole
In the night
The only spark

Pupils beamed with radiance,
and naive genuineness flowed
as the illusion of love came her way.

But behind the tugging of strings
was a skillful maneuver
with his foxy intentions.

As the strings were played
back and forth,
emotions began to be strangled
and the cords that were struck
created a melody
to the tune of his accordance.

The fortress began to whither
but he was tired of his own maneuvers
that he gave into dispelling his intentions
before the frontier guarding her heart collapsed.

Though the barrier to intimacy
did not collapse completely,
the intention of ones kindness broke,
the illusion of ones amiable action broke
as it became the an act
just to open the gate of letting one in.

Trust withered,
but hope seemed to still be lingering
as the good in them, she always saw.

But after multiple tries,
of her heart being played with.
It was locked,
to the ones who would come along.

They say you can’t see love,
But feel all it’s feelings.
But I see it clearly,
Through your actions revealing,

The star that you hold,
Shining like light’s color.
I don’t feel cold,
When I start to get smaller.

They say brown is ordinary,
Just common and boring.
But I see the dewberry,
Can’t help exploring.

They say pupils mean nothing,
Just a part of the body.
But I’ve felt them touching,
The dreams I embody.

Eyes are the doorway,
To a person’s own soul.
Feeling them sway,
Unlocking my keyhole,

As I gaze into theirs,
Brushing their haze,
Climbing their stairs,
Solving their maze.

I feel their heat,
I sense their ember,
Yearn to repeat,
The times in December.

Your eyes made of smooth,
Caramel-wrapped chocolate,
Revealing the truth in,
My heart’s flowing droplets.

The clouds whiteness fills inside of my pupils.
سپیدی ابرها ،آکنده می سازد سیاهی چشمانم را