As she contacted my eyes,

her words lost their purpose and

gravity,

becoming

dulcet echoes,

gradually

drowning

in the mellow sea

of my subconscious reality.

Yet I became conscious of being

seized

by her trance and wandering

aimlessly

within, as if I were a stranger,

welcomed by the brown encircling the black

that became the silhouette

around the eclipse of her pupil,

all surrounded by swift rays of gold.

 

And I came to the conclusion

that if I may find a reason

to regain connection

with a state of realism,

I should please forget the masterpiece

that is her

so I could later be captured and embraced

if she were benevolent enough to lock gazes

with me once more.