Brown eyes,
warm and alive,
like they’ve memorized a thousand roles
but still look at you like you’re the only story.

She forgets things mid-sentence,
then scrunches her face in that thinking way
I’ve come to love.
A word slips through her fingers,
and I’ll sit there watching her
try to catch it.
She always blushes when I remind her,
like I’ve handed her back
a little part of herself.

She listens when I speak,
not just with patience
but with interest,
like my thoughts are worth
the space they take.

And now,
I have to remember her
longer than I’ve known her .
Like a song that played once
and never again,
but the tune still lingers
in the quiet.

She came in like a season
that didn’t stay long,
but rearranged the sky
before it left.

And now every time
the light hits just right,
I find pieces of her
in the air.

I’ve been meaning to say something,
but the words never feel right.
It’s strange how distance grows
even when I can’t stop thinking about you,
which is funny because
I’ve memorized the way
your face leans toward the light,
as if it’s drawn to something
only you can see.

Your eyes,
deep and restless
carry a weight
you think you’re hiding,
but it’s there,
a quiet storm I can’t look away from.

the way your smile curves,
unintentional yet disarming,
the way you stain my thoughts
like a song i can't unhear

I wonder if you know
how many times I’ve written you
into a sentence I couldn’t finish,
how often I’ve reached
for a silence
only you could fill.

"Ummm... I like you," she said,
her voice a trembling whisper.
Beads of sweat glistened on her brow,
breath uneven,
her heart pounding like fragile thunder.

She stood in quiet stillness,
anticipation pooling in her eyes,
her gaze fixed,

And then, I felt it—
a rush of warmth blooming in my chest,
nerves tangling with wonder,
as if her words were rewriting my very being.

For a moment, time stood still—
and that was when
I felt spring in the winter.

Her brown eyes are like polished
mahogany, their rich hue deepened with a subtle glimmer, lacing beauty into every flower bed they touch. They hold an irresistible warmth and clarity, reflecting a depth that's both inviting and enigmatic—like the first sip of coffee on a quiet morning, awakening something deep inside. They shimmer, soft as stardust, each glance revealing a gentle spark, as if they're harboring a soft, unspoken magic just for you.

On a crisp autumn evening, in your warmth I find,
A paradise surpassing what heaven designed
In the quiet spaces between our whispers,
I find solace in the trust that lingers.
In the garden of our love, where skies are blue.
Just like Adam trusted Eve, I trust you,

The heavens may brand us as sinners, it's true,
But what's sin to the depth of me and you?
The first sins were woven in trust's embrace,
Where the forbidden fruit met love’s tender grace.

They trusted, as do I, with every chance,
Though rules may crumble, and judgments glance.
Perhaps our love defies the heavens' perfection,
Perhaps we offend Gods with our affection,
But our love outshines any celestial objection.

Why seek heaven's glow in distant height,
When beside you, my love, is my purest light?
Because what has heaven got that I can't find right here with you?

If I were a painter
Every day, I know,
I'd paint you in colors,
Which will always glow.

If I were a sculptor
Working all alone,
I'd carve you a statue
From a precious stone.

If I were a potter
Bent over the wheel
I'd knead your soft body
With the greatest zeal.

If I were an angel
From the starry sky
I'd make you immortal
With my holy eye.

Yet, I'm just a plain man
With an honest view,
I can do no other,
But to care for you.

and i threw the thought of you in the sea,
and hoped that
If it were meant to be,
The tides will bring the thought of you back into my mind once again