The Color of Her Eyes

She looks back
over her shoulder
smiling
at how she made
him look at her
not so subtle
and yet to glance again
to both escape being seen
in his having taken
a mental snapshot
and in his having been caught
looking directly
into her eyes,
memorizing their color
until he can burn
their fierce hue
into his breathing
so that her touch becomes
a wisdom
that asks
for nothing
and yet requires
the memory
of this glance,
the one
that says,
"This is the path,
the line,
the boundary,
the contour
of my silhouette,
and I move it
with my lips.

runningturtle87