I spy you under lunar skies,
Peering in through my window,
Peeking into my dreams.
I, like the firefly, follow your blinks
Deeper into the embers of your irises,
Where time unravels into a samsara.
Slowly, unknowingly, while in orbit
I’ve become trapped in the sweet sap
Of your amber eyes.
Behind those golden orbs
You know that we are forever tied
In an infinite loop:
Your eyes watching my eyes watching yours…
We daringly stare deeper until
Our reflections reveal our endless play,
As we fall through multiple windows trying to grasp
Our love of nature, the nature of love.
Sometimes I feel obsession like a planet feels a star; my thoughts swirling madly on an accretion disk, colliding with one another, forming new and grander objects, and eventually falling inward due to the pull of a singular, luminous idea. Here, that idea was the greatest form of obsession: love.