When I look in to one eyes, as cliche as it might sound.
The room slows down.
My energy flows in a frequency only perceived by he.
I see each red strain in his chestnut colored eyes.
Showcasing the long sleepless nights.
He’s funny, light hearted and wild.
Gentle spirit, sweet scent, with a fierce ambition.
But I’m torn, for I have but two great loves.
One regal and fiery, creativity in each cell, magnetic energy surges between his fingers when holding a pen.
He is the writer of all writers.
Wisdom of a thousand men.
The other calm, loving, embodied with the spirt of a past life king.
What to do when both can fulfill every need, differently, yet the same.
When I look in to the others eyes, I see a mirror of me, literally.
Each eye so glossy and moist.
I see in them, myself.
Reflecting to me every detail in my face.
Every scar, all the wear and tear through out the years.
What his naturally dewy pupils do for me, is that they display back to me, what I can’t see, or won’t allow myself to be.
The power of his presence can turn the weakest of dames in to a fighter slaying any dragon untamed.
Oh where to go, what to choose.
I could choose the king with a charisma to convince fellow men
Or I could stay close to home, cuddled up at the fireplace with a part of my soul.
The charming writer like I.
A poet in his own right.
Oh, what a time to be alive.
PS. I’m big on reading another’s eyes, they tell a great story. A story unread, misread, or dismissed by most. Although totally different, both magnificent in their own way. Two great people inspired this poem.