My Love's Eyes
Of course, love has preferences:
I prefer eyes sort of like, yours.
Misty at times,
And at others, deeply dark and
Startlingly invasive – no point
In trying to keep secrets from such
Penetrating eyes. Then there are those
Moments of unsettling absence. I attempt
Vainly to enter your silence, gain needed
Access to mysterious inner parts kept
From me...I try to cross the meridians
Keeping souls necessarily private, where
One meditates and prays in solemnity. My need to
For safe familiarity, juxtaposed with
With strange planets and alien landscapes
Each mortal possesses and senses to
Sacredly guard. Yet I track your disturbing
Aloofness. As a hound on the scent. Into
Whirlpools of privacy where no uninvited
Sojourner has right to venture. No one
Should attempt to know another that entirely,
That consuming. Yes, love has preferences. Like
Your dainty bell ears, and adorable ski nose --
And very large feet~ all for the next poem.
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