I wrote this, my personal favorite poem, about star-crossed lovers. |
Black Eyes Just because I love the hot, close quarters of your mind and the memories you fashion with your busy little hands, and your soft, gravely little voice and your whispers of undying love and your face as beautiful as any madonna's and your body, who can describe that?? I need you to know that I won't always be sucked in with those black eyes. If time or calamities ever bury all of these things and more, I could not love you out of duty or chore, for my intense love of what is the essense of you, the core of you, would not allow me to enter in where I do not belong, where others lay claims before me. I have no rights. no matter how you beckon with those black eyes. If I stole into secret chambers where our eyes and hearts might speak of forbidden thoughts and love and you knew my every thought and felt my pulse, the swoosh of coursing blood bound for parts on fire, just because you could, you would squelch it all with one look from those black eyes. But I would speak to you as well in case you could hear me, touch me, feel me just before I left for hell, to let you know I had a life to live of my own before you came along; because you recognize my voice, my touch, our past, our love, our choice even when your black eyes are blind with fury |