It's a ridiculous cliche but, ******* it, your eyes...
Forgive me if I don't always make eye contact,
Or look away too soon. I'm listening. I swear it.
I'm afraid you might think that I'm full of myself,
Or afraid you might think that I've no self-esteem.
The truth is much simpler than either extreme.
The truth is I'm somewhere right in between.
Twin seas draw my stare and I fear what I'll say.
Fear falling into their unlit depths, where even my silence could betray.
The source to illuminate and fuel our lives' desires,
Find it in her hands , her touch,
Find it in her eyes.
Her eyes of ocean depth see me,
Giving no safe place to hide,
Searching bad cliches for the light, the otherness inside.
But what if all of my words are wrong?
What if they drive you away?
What if the light between oceans is mute?
Insufficient to make you stay?
What light passes to the heart or soul through those twin gates, but look!
The gates themselves, ruinous sirens that must be heeded. Reverence, fascination, a constant meditation, your eyes, your heart-breaking eyes. I can think of nothing else. I can see little else.
- improvised for a musical collaboration with a distant artist.
(UPDATE: IT'S COMPLETE. Thanks to soundcloud musician Dennis Ramler for taking me on in a collaborative effort )