sitting under
the weeping willow tree
you were sitting and reading a book.
something profound and
utterly incomprehensible
to me,
see
i was too busy staring at your face!
by the way, i like the look of your eyes in the sunlight. they don't turn honey brown like mine.
they get deeper and darker and richer and
i like when you talk to me in between page turning
i like the throaty sound of your voice and how your words are poetry in motion and
i really like your laugh a lot.
i wish i could hear it more often
i wish i could tell you what i really think
when you ask me,
"well, what are you staring at?"
yellow tulip - hopeless love
