As abditive
as I am,
a vestige
of her presence
sets my heart
pounding-
wanting
to be heard
in the din;
to be seen
in a crowd;
to be in
the warmth
of her arms...

A student of ichthyology,
I am not.
Thus, a hypural joint
Is not my strong point -
Please don't tie me up in knots!

The Greek warriors
Honed themselves
In the palaestra,
Acquiring
Sculpted physiques:
Idolized
By goddesses,
Envied
By lesser mortals

She climbed
Out of the debris,
Bruised.
Face smeared in soot.
A lone trickle
Of blood
Down her temple,
Dried, yet red.
Her clothes ragged,
Her chest bare,
She staggered
Towards shelter
As though dancing
To music
Of sirens that
Rent the air.
Collapsing in a heap,
She looked up
To the offer
Of a drink
Of water that
She sipped
And
Her lips
Curved into
A solitary smile
Of gratitude.

Those eyes
Those bewitching eyes
Enamor me no end

Aqua cool
They tug at my soul
In their depth I blend

Besotted by them, I am
They leave me in a jam
My emotions I can’t mend

Crimson is her hue
The eyes, aqua blue
I guess that’s the trend

If I confuse you
You should see her too
You will comprehend

If I had eyes like those
You too would drift from prose
As I did for this Twitter friend

If I were another man
I’d have a different plan
To be forever content!