Her eyes were not merely brown
They were hazelnut dipped in coffee,
fading, her mysteries, in her silence
Her hair was merely long
But dark enough to keep me tangled
In the maze of her existence,
She barely noticed me,
But my heart popped out of my chest
When her eyes wandered to me
And she was not beautiful, the way you describe it
She was simply pretty,
And I heard her speak
and it felt as if her vocal cords were violin strings,
She walked, and my stomach was a house of butterflies,
She looked, and I was already drowning in her eyes
And suddenly her existence was the reason to be alive
And I was her, completely hers, but I knew she could never be mine