...so i will greet youin a wayall loved thingsare meant to be greetedwith a tear in my heartand a poem in my eye.

the intensityin your eyesburns my penas i write.

Maybe life is all about twirling under one of those midnight skies, cutting a swathe through the breeze and gently closing your eyes.

i'm glad to be alive in a world wherehis gently awakening eyesnourish the morning sun.

I wish to stay drenchedforeverin those rain-blue eyesin those...soul-reaching crystalsnot moving a musclenor breathingjustsavoringthis turquoise acheagainst my heart.

in the endit is wordspoetry. sunsetssomeone’s deep blue silk voice.mountain scents.someone’s smile.eyes. that we haveno defenses against.

You are the ocean to my eyes.

what ismore beautifultears, in someone’s eyesfor meor in my eyesfor them.

to be a poet meansto live with a permanent wound forever susceptibleto either the shade of the skyor someone's eyes.