Our Eyes

"The windows to our soul", they are often named,

an indicator for first impressions - or feelings.

Blessed as they were, when I first saw you. 

Though sadness you emanated, curiousness I took in.

Then gradually, two hearts began to touch,

and hands were almost held. 

One more I wanted to meet, which made me fall even further.

Your heart in the open, yet "it" patroled around it.

I was the one you trusted, but not the one you were looking at.

Your windows shut, curtains drawn, and "you" still hidden.

Through many attempts for you to pull back those curtains, you inched bit by bit.

With each pull of the blinds, the closer the bond felt.

Mine wanting to reach yours, that pushed me to continue to pursue you.


Your eyes met mine. 

Both curtains drawn, seeing each other, came understanding. 

I finally got to see the "you" behind your walls.

I finally saw how you love.

This poem is about: 


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