He walks out of the room,
She's standing in the crowded corridor,
Their eyes meet,
Or is it their souls?
They stand frozen,
Paralysed by the intense
Gaze of the other.
She can't look away,
And he can't either,
They can't because they can't.
Their hearts, so in sync,
Trip in mid-jump.
Her lungs have turned into steel,
Stolen breaths, feather light head.
He's a trembling feverish mess,
Of gooseflesh and hungry desire.
Her eyes, darker than black,
Raven whirlpools that can overpower him,
His eyes, incandescent blue,
A flickering flame,
Powerful yet deceptively beautiful.
She's sure that he can see,
Her dark chocolate skin
Screaming to be touched.
He's sure that she can see,
His pupils dilate,
In delicious anticipation.
His eyes have love enough,
To drown her.
Her eyes have desire enough,
To electrocute him.
They've had their first kiss,
And their second, and thousandth,
They've already made love a million times,
They have done all this with their eyes,
She strokes her neck to make sure,
The lovebites aren't really there.
He grabs his heart to make sure,
That it's still beating.
He's never felt happier,
She's never felt freer,
He's never felt more beautiful,
She's never felt stronger,
When they see themselves,
In the other's eye.
When they see themselves,
Through the other's eye.
YOU ARE READING
NEPENTHE
PoetryHi there! The word NEPENTHE means anything that induces forgetfulness of sorrow or pain. I, for one, believe that little things like smiles, my mother's comfort food and long walks are the best forms of nepenthe around. These poems celebrate the s...
