Member-only story
The Eyes Are the First Thing to Spark My Heart’s Flame
Prose Poetry
Hello, stranger, I thought you might have been a mirage. The shadows under your eyes tell a story — and I want to know more. Will you tell me in whispers so soft they feel like a touch?
When I get lost in your gaze, I imagine what lies on the other side, the pathway to your mind and its secrets. Let me pillage them, just once, and sort through every truth and lie. Do you see yourself clearly? But looking in a mirror will do you no good. You won’t see what I see, I know, but perhaps you might see your reflection staring back at you from the depths of my eyes.
You’re a stranger now, while conversation is still so new that it’s stilted and awkward. Someday soon, though, we might call each other friends or something more. Your eyes brighten when I tell a joke, and my heart pounds in response. This game we’re learning — isn’t it a delight?
See, we’re getting along just fine. I see you tip back your glass, your throat swallowing the liquid courage of your wine, and I wonder what it might be like to be a taste on your tongue. Kissing you once, maybe twice — the idea of it all sends a shiver coursing through me.
But I am a stranger too. Would you let me close? Will you ever? My brain races with every possibility like each one is a card…
