his eyes.

oh, you should see him, though.

under my intimate eyes,

watching his every move as the lights lay low.

sometimes I think he is staring back.

I wish to kiss him, but that would be unwise.

so for now, I’ll just pray

that one day I can crawl into his skin,

to show and love him in my own way.

on the rare time I catch him staring

I cannot bring myself to look away.

his eyes look like they’re plotting

my death? I wouldn’t mind it under his tender touch.

Soaked in my blood, he would still be endearing.