You can see it in my eyes' dilation.
In the way I lick and bite my lips,
wrap and clench my fists
between sheets of frustration.
Something in the way your hairs twist
insists the soul of an artist.
I swear it was made by a florist
and sprinkled with stardust.
And the quasars your eyes are
Shine brighter than light fractured
through the stones your fond of.
I'm jealous of everyone who's experienced your gaze before me.
The physical features of your body
are just the tip of the iceberg, so to speak,
Of why I find you enticing. Your mind is so entrancing
it could make the Titanic re-sink.
There is beauty beneath your hair,
Behind your eyes, in the center of your mind and the crust of your skin.
A universe of beauty you hold within. As I witness something that rare
I tell myself...No, force myself to believe this is just infatuation.
Feb 14, 2014
Feb 14, 2014 at 12:32 AM UTC
You can see it in my eyes' dilation.
In the way I lick and bite my lips,
wrap and clench my fists
between sheets of frustration.
Something in the way your hairs twist
insists the soul of an artist.
I swear it was made by a florist
and sprinkled with stardust.
And the quasars your eyes are
Shine brighter than light fractured
through the stones your fond of.
I'm jealous of everyone who's experienced your gaze before me.
The physical features of your body
are just the tip of the iceberg, so to speak,
Of why I find you enticing. Your mind is so entrancing
it could make the Titanic re-sink.
There is beauty beneath your hair,
Behind your eyes, in the center of your mind and the crust of your skin.
A universe of beauty you hold within. As I witness something that rare
I tell myself...No, force myself to believe this is just infatuation.
© February 13th, 2014 by Timothy Brown. All rights reserved.
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