one can only imagine those brown eyes are similar in color to coffee.
warm, energizing but enough to bring you comfort.
purse your lips and take it in.
the familiar scent and taste.

does it remind you of the slow thursday mornings?
where you could sneakily look over at him?
then return to your own cup of coffee,
eager to entertain your own silent thoughts?

could it be wrong?
comparing him to a mere disposable item, a drink, that you’ve bonded over.
that boy strikes me as more; more to be seen, more to be heard,
let’s be honest, how much depth does your brew have?

many scars mark his skin; intentional or not is none of mine to know,
but the true curiosity comes in when it is internal.
he mentions books too long to pique my interest and music far better suited to a gentler soul,
he speaks so lightly, yet, humor behind every word and concern behind every thought.
i only wish to understand a mind like his.

if i wanted to know what was in my coffee, i could simply read the ingredients.
but this is a time i must confess that there has been no harder task,
don’t dare call it mystery but instead charm in silence
he is just enough to draw you in but not enough to push you out.

the boy of warm hues mumbles his thoughts through short sentences and i can’t help but try.
try to understand the boy with coffee eyes and a charming mind.
he does now, indeed, strike something familiar.
with the way he looks at me.

does this remind you of that indeed, strikingly familiar thing?
if i’m being honest, a slow thursday doesn’t seem so bad.
as long as i can keep those coffee eyes by my side.