Your Eyes

Your eyes, your mien, your tongue declare that you are music, that you are music everywhere.” – If Music Be the Food of Love, Henry Purcell

Looking up into your eyes.
Steady gaze across the room.
One, two, three.

I break my eyes away.
Sudden flush across my cheeks.
Icy breeze, yet burning heat.
What have you done to me?

Your eyes.
So beautiful and piercing,
Rimmed with lashes long and dark.

When I look into those pools,
Emotions push against my heart.

I’m falling.

Your voice so deep and soothing,
Like lilting music through the night.
Shivers tingle down my spine.

What have you done to me?

When I raise my head again,
Our eyes, as if by magic, meet.

Adonis, how could such emotion
Be inside your eyes tonight?

Then you smile, slow and brief.
Shocked, my eyes widen.
Breath catches.
I turn my face away for good.

Adonis.

What have you done to me?