The window to her soul

She was anything but small. She was made up of entire cities buildings and skyscrapers, rising everywhere. From the crook of her cornea to the bend of her iris.

And I wanted nothing more than to stay there,to remain transfixed by each monumental lens and hang up plaques on the park benches of your pupils.

And she winked her big brown eyes…she didn’t  mind if you were mayor,like she didn’t mind sharing a throne.

But you have eyes like a religion, and I could spend the rest of my life memorizing them.Please don’t run along leave before I have a chance to translate the language you are written in.