It is a slow memorizing.
First the eyes.
Brown swallows brown swallows me.
Now I am ever searching because
to what can I compare them?
Nothing is lovelier.
Lashes rising to meet — my gaze.
Heavy with — not love —
but a wondering.
You bring me to darkness.
I don’t even know your face yet;
the distance from your lips,
parted in smile, to your lashes
will take a lifetime.
To learn you would be
a heavy thing.
To kiss you would be
a real thing.
