Something About Her Eyes

Gaze: like pools of the night that shimmer with the radiance of the depths of the seas. See this - a lake, serene, undisturbed, and the glow of the stars that dance with that joyous beauty and a glance, for longer did I try to break the stillness, but it was peace.

Peace: Old age, it smiles and knows, it understands, that this is the play of the two young lovers who waltz across the creaking floorboards, see the old chandelier, see the rusted chains. Change - Old's heart feels, he was there before, he cannot return, the young are hasty and Old is silent, with a knowing smile.

Smile: Wave gold, bright yellow, glad orange, and a warmth that embraces like a mother comforting her weeping son, or a light, a mere lamp, that drives the dark back to its conspiratous corner, this flame. Same - for each glow I see, my heart glows in me, now come, a life in this life.

Life: too fast to love, she revolves like the wind, the pantomime ball we see for moment, fleeting mask. Masks - overwhelm, overfast, and strings or the brass or the beat of the drum and we step and each step and we walk and we change the moment we can hide behind these guises for it is only behind a mask that some find rest.

Rest: for all guises must come to their end and perhaps, again, we shall gaze.