The evening is set,
the sun bleeds down the sky,
leaving splotches of stars in its path.
The waltzing flames of the fire
reflect into the beautiful eyes,
solemn like plain dark cocoa powder.
They make a gorgeous mirror,
resembling the placid waters of the lake;
imitating the hopelessness of the sky.
A loud crackle sends tiny ginger lanterns
up, to melt in with the constellations.
We sit in a lovely silence
until the last of the flames ebb away.
Darkness envelops us
the sliver of the moon
can’t possibly infiltrate this night.
Quietly, like the tide pulling back before a tsunami
I get an eerie feeling eyes are watching
I am prey to my own insanity until
I can put the face to the eyes.