I wonder if I could here a sphere
And hurl that pearl back into your eyes
Or perhaps just one eye, a triangular kind.
Jumping from left to right and up the bridge of your nose.
A particular pose played by the pacing
Of these runes and spacing
Sewn together by punctuation skipping
Comma little closer and know
That I do not want the pearl, a dot, or its growing spots
Simply something similar to its glimmer
Solely that feeling of slowly spinning that sphere

Upon contemplative fingertips waiting to flick
Into an ear, that perfect whisper
That ticks and tocks for about a handful of seconds
Until bouncing hips are dancing to that kicking flick
That you wondered about so well