Bright Eyes
Your eyes.
A pair of toys
That demand to play:
Can’t break your eyes
Away from me,
A tribute touch,
To touch taboo,
A place where words
Are inconsequential
And one long glance
Is more than ample
To convey touching
But from a different angle:
An eyebrow raise,
A steady gaze,
A fail to follow
Conventions that would
Rather hail the rise of
Modesty and thwarted intentions,
Than condone the
Secrets shared
And mercenary lies,
That live,
Inside the space that is,
Two illicit pairs of
Playing eyes.
Image: Pixabay
My blog is story telling, often in verse, and some of which includes tales of both living with, and crushing, seronegative arthritis. All work is original.
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