Sunflower Eyes

She drew in water,
Like it’d stay still. Like the world knew,
Where it ends and begins.
He patched up the space between love and himself,
That day by the water fountain.
11:57 p.m., soaked in rain and muddy feet.
Glasses that fogged up with his breath.
He paced himself when the moonlight bounced.
And she was just drawing in plain silence.
He’d never seen tranquillity so close.
Growing fond of all the freckles that’s bursting out from her face.
She seemed lost.
But not the kind you read about in the dictionary.
She was every character that was too hard to pin down into words.
To describe her would be to insult her.
So close,
He can feel her eyes on his shoulder.
She wore a blue dress that oceans envied.
Sunflower eyes, yet coffee brown to the naked view.
He realised he was staring,
Such ignorance of his.
She brushed past his shoulder.
Looked at his lips and said goodnight.
And years late as I walk beside the grey old man,
He still slows down by the fountain,
Places the sunflowers by the edge.
Holding a blue stone that has cracked long ago.
He said to me,
The life he felt inside him that night saved his soul.
From being alone,
So, for the beauty in ocean blue,
He always owes a love.
Pure and untinged of greed.
Where the water stood still.

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