God’s Eyes

I look in his eyes and forget.
Sometimes they make me remember.
But they always look back with honesty.
What most conceal, he reveals.
I don’t know why.
To describe him is difficult.
Common sense says I should fear.
The truth is, he’d never hurt or harm me. (Only himself)
All he says should disgust and worry.
But it merely intrigues.
I look in his eyes and hurt.
Pain for him. Disgust for me.
Yet I look every chance I get.
Because they always look back.
I don’t kid myself that we’re similar.
That would be demeaning to him.
But sometimes I can relate to what he’s saying, feeling, doing.
(A lot of the time, actually.)
I look in his eyes and am drawn to him.
I believe that I love him, but not romantically.
Anything he wants is his, all he need do is ask.
Not because he asked, but because I want to give.
I look in his eyes and wonder.
What does he think of me?
(That I’m psycho? That I’m a brat? That I’m pathetic?)
It doesn’t matter, I guess.
Soon we’ll take our separate paths again.
He’ll not recall me and I’ll never forget him.
I look in his eyes as if I’ll never see them again.
Because I never know when it will be my last look.
That’s why I fear.
That’s why I hurt.
And that’s why I’m drawn.
Because in his eyes,
I see the beauty he overlooks.
I see all the worthy things he ignores.
7.21.99/3.00am -dedicated to wmm, jr.

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