the watcher

the watcher - with my eyes

that night, i captured the details
of each of your faces with my eyes.
each curvature; the pale
hues of your beautiful makeup;
even that mismatched outfit;

so out of place, as we sat
besides each other,
our backs framed by the
darkness of nights, enjoying
the friendly parley.

i captured with my eyes,
the memories, that make up
the person who watched,
and savoured in the
beauty of that moment.

and when the time
that so cruelly erodes, the
bonds of physical closeness
comes to pass;

that image of joy recreated,
as replayed day after night
after day, becoming assimilated
into the core of my being.
bringing a faint smile to those
lips, as the sad passing of life
and time simultaneously take place.

if it should come to pass,
and i pray it would,

that your gentle
lips should meet mine,
then even death would come
as such
a sweetening blow,
as a tired head

craves its pillow.