He looks at me, really looks at me
gazing at me through lover's eyes
he finds the little girl, sultry woman
there is nothing that escapes him
every nuance of joy or pain he sees
every glint of my eyes he understands
he looks at me and sees imperfections
but imagines me with none to notice
he knows my soul, holds my heart
he sees things in me others never have
his eyes conjuer his lust for me but
so much more they feed a great love
he's the only one who has really seen me
he knows me better than I know myself
and loves me anyway, past my defects
his eyes see me only in the light of love
where negatives seem inconsequential
and my eyes see him as a rock of love
The eyes of the heart are always perfectly focused and uniquely accurate. The fate of love and souls are dependent upon them. Your romantic interpretation of the reflective pools of the soul is filled with the promise loves brings into our lives.
To look and see, truly see, is a fantastic thing to have, Susan, loving even though he sees the "real" you no one else can see. That said, there are more ways to love than merely understanding the mental. There is that "other" way which far too many people perceive it as "ugly." Not so. Not so.
I loved him. At age twelve he touched my heart with his music. At age twenty he captured my heart when our eyes met as he sat on a stage and sang Four months later, he fractured my heart with his refusal to allow us to stay together. At age seventy
Falling to a rare sentinel illness and separated from her charges during a retrieval mission Xevera Nanay encounters the biggest threat to her survival but more importantly her autonomy when paramedic Michael Constantine recognizes and imprisons her
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Far too rare, but drink it all.
Beautiful.
Wow! My head is spinning.
Or the beer holder.
Beautifully written emotions to see through another's eyes.
With admiration as always,
Walt
Love ya!
Jane
Seriously, your poem shows a man with very keen insight into what a woman wants or needs.
Ron