Bliss to The Eyes

Oh, her smile! A bliss to the eyes for a moment.
What’s in them that melts my heart?
A silent whisper from the heavens, perhaps,
Or the cruel jest of fate, weaving its threads.

I, a wanderer, am drawn to their light.
And I am helpless, am consumed.
I cannot grasp it. It hovers just beyond, 
Like a fragment of a dream that flees at dawn.

It should be nothing—just a smile,
But it grasps me, constricts me .
A riddle I dare not to solve,
For to know is to lose, and to lose is despair.

Her eyes seem to judge me without effort,
Not cruelly, but indifferently,
As if they’ve seen this all before,
My trembling, my helpless awe.

And yet, I am drawn to her.
Drawn not by hope, but by the inevitability of it.
Her presence is not an absurdity,
A reminder that meaning is not mine to grasp.

But her smile is like the essence of coffee, 
Bittersweet and addictive,
A warmth that lingers long after it's gone,
Leaving me, craving for more.

Her smile is like being bathed in sunlight,
A warmth that gently floods my soul,
Her smile, a shot of espresso, 
Wrapped in a comfort that soothes and haunts.

Oh, her smile! A bliss to the eyes for a moment.
What’s in them that melts my heart?
Perhaps it is nothing at all, 
And in that nothingness, I am lost.

Her laughter, soft and distant,
Echoes in my mind like footsteps 
down an endless corridor.
Is it real? Or have I created it in my delusion. 
A sound to fill the void she left in me?

She smiles, and the world shifts.
Not for her, not for anyone else,
But for me alone, the desirous witness.
A punishment disguised as a gift.

Oh, her smile! A bliss to the eyes for a moment.
What’s in them that melts my heart?
Perhaps it is my own reflection,
Twisted, distorted, made unfamiliar by her gaze.

Her eyes meet mine, and I am unmade.
Not by malice, nor even intention,
But by the fact of her being there.
Maybe it is too much, and yet not enough.

Her face lingers when she is gone,
As a memory, as a question, 
Unanswered, unanswerable,
Teasing at the edges of my thoughts.

I would turn away, but what is left if not her?
Her smile has become my prison,
A place I cannot leave,
Though I built it myself with every stolen glance.

Oh, her smile! A bliss to the eyes for a moment.
What’s in them that melts my heart?
I wish I could say it is love,
But it is something unsettling, a longing I cannot name.

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