In Your Eyes

Could anything be so blue as seen by your celestial gaze?  I was shy to ask what the sea looked like for you, it seemed like an unusual question, but I knew that you would show me.  To see the world through your eyes, to feel as you felt; I burned in my every limb and every moment, by lex, in your wisdom, and everything I had known washed away into you.  The ocean was deeper and darker than I expected; it reminded me of a place I came from, a familiar vagrancy, solemn and secluded.  Never had I assumed you knew of a place like this, but I had only just been.  You made due here, and you dressed it and pleaded to be found.

We knew we could see like this, but no one would mention it.  Why hadn't they?  Or did they know that we would speak first?  We learned again to see, to speak, to listen, and from what strength had atrophied, we were born anew.  We saw each other more clearly here, so freely.  With you, I could see light in the abyss, further and faithfully; I made sense of things that perplexed me; and then we disappeared.  When we awake, will we still be as one?  I knew this had to depend on a promise I made to you, one which I would bring to death; you were right on time, and we were made swift.  Your starry blue eyes spoke to me in that moment, and I, too, was still in love.  It scared me that it could happen like this, that all things could be wound so intricately, but I knew this was as I meant, and I knew to be strong for you.  I knew no one could love me like you do, and I knew I could never leave you.  I could only ever be for you, dear.

Doctor Robert