Her Eyes Are Still
Her eyes are still. The many stories I utter
Create emotions and etch new scenes.
Moments sing. We get our fill.
Gentleness is now the mediator.
I have chipped away at the old patterns,
Stammered in her arms,
Shook within to freeze the
Weapons in my arms.
I cannot go further than this.
If I tell you about her gaze
You, too, may get lost in the
Endless source of creativity
And never come back.
I must keep this a secret, even though
My imagination cannot keep track.
Her eyes are still.