She doesn't know across the room he contemplates the lay of hair, and ponders twirling a single lock, with warmth of whispers upon his cheek while lost in deep brown eyes. How wondrous it would be, To linger near a slope of ear and gently sing a soothing timbre that lasts beyond forever. She doesn't see the stolen glance cleverly concealed in nonchalance, swift to turn upon the crowd. (blue corners yet for her.) She doesn’t see the yearning behind blue eyes for a time when brown and blue should meet and linger In dreams of discovery, of understanding what fuel stokes the inner fires of those marvelous orbs. A desire to immerse in their depths and gladly writhe forever. She doesn't know, he envies those of plated smiles whose words slip silver, through surer lips and garner favor openly, freely. She doesn't know, he trembles with each whisper and fumbles words on a traitor tongue, wary of misplaced conversation, fearful of being revealed. She doesn't see the stolen glance across the room. She doesn't know the yearning behind blue eyes for a time when brown and blue should meet and last beyond forever.
Keith E. Sparks Jr.
Copyright © 2007, 2019
Written in 2007, Later appeared in "Facets" 2019
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