His Eyes
How blonde he was! How smooth was his veneer!
My poor heart raced whenever he was near.
He was a wizard! His blue crystal eyes,
if fixed on mine, would surely hypnotize!
Did I turn crimson when he gazed on me
those first few times before obscurity
became my lot? How many months I pined
for something sweet I wished with him to find!
He’d wanted me! That was no masquerade.
Yet later, no attention was I paid.
He grew aloof and turned his face away,
while not opaque, my heart before him lay.
HIS heart was ebony and hard as coal.
I had to suture mine because my soul
felt close to death. Years passed. . . I chanced to see
him, but his eyes, cold glass, sliced right through me.
Dedicated to Chris F.
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