EYES
I wrote something once
about eyes.
I said that
there was nothing in them.
I didn't think that
they could say anything,
but I just hadn't found
the right ones.
When I saw hers
last night, I knew something.
I'm not sure what now;
it's gone when I'm not
with her.
I just knew,
as soon as her eyes
looked at me,
and there wasn't
anything else,
and I didn't need
anything else.
Now, when I'm alone,
I just try to remember.
I can't without her.