thinking of her eyes, poetically



trying to figure out why I love, I first had to figure out
how

she said things like, "merry-ville," "holy-wood," and "philistine"

it was sexy, especially coming from those eyes, those punctuating blues eyes queried by her words

I knew immediately those were eyes I could love for the rest of my life

for when everything else fails, there's always the eyes

"You may not know this, but when you think of someone in your head, you're thinking of their eyes."

"And did you know the reason kids are so cute is because their eyes are full-size by the time they're five"

"I bet yours eyes were full size from the beginning."

"Stop that," she said.

"No, your eyes are beautiful, the keys to your soul."

"And you call yourself a poet."

"I never said that. I said, I was poetic, there's a difference."

and when she smiled

I got it





racist chickn