I like the way your lashes curl.
They’re shy, they are,
but they’re hiding stars —
I like the way your smile unfurls.

Oh, how you think it curious
that one could write of lashes
or compare smiles to caches
(for yours hides treasure, you know).
But my words aren’t spurious,
though you don’t see that, do you?
my heart, it goes right through you
(I’d weep; nothing’s left to show).

Fathoming’s a feat of faith,
and faith’s a gift I demand from you.
Greed can grant me this one request —
my question naked: is it true?
Are you blind to understanding?
Or is my notion of it skewed?

How can you beat the one I love?
How can you lie and turn your face?
How can you hurt the one I love?
How can you treat her with disgrace?

How dare you beat the one I love.
How dare you try to dispose of
the lashes that curl
the ones I like
the pure-hearted girl
the smile I like
the untarnished pearl
the heart I like.

Love.

Because I like the way your lashes curl,
it’s selfish, I know, and I realize,
but I love the way your smile unfurls —
now if only you would open your eyes.

© 2015 Stellular Scribe