Philosopher 3

A Poem by implicit

This is the third in a series of works entitled "Philosopher" On it's on this work takes the name "Beautiful Eyes"

I wonder what it is about her that catches me by surprise
When I far too often find myself falling into beautiful eyes
of the kind of color I just can't quite describe
Eyes so deep I've dozed off inside them dozens of times

Lately, I've been listening to every letter on her lips
Her voice makes me recall life as a little kid

Like plucking dandelions in Little League
Making memories of many things like caterpillars and bumblebees and mortal wounds like scraped-up knees

She might be Midas, melting me to liquid gold with her eyes
Lighting me on fire, burning me from the inside
As soon as her hand touches mine
She erases any idea that I might not end up fine