Messages

She would write messages with her eyes
Dipping her glances into the ink of her kohl.
With a mere blink then she’d send off
Those missives sans destinations, no knowing
Who might receive them, who’d read them.
Though she never wrote a return address,
Eagerly she’d wait, hoping for a reply.
She would write messages with her eyes
Dipping her glances into the ink of her kohl.
I sat pondering over a Neruda verse, sitting at the
Bookstore corner wishing I knew Spanish, while
Absently overhearing two teens discuss Austen and
“You’ve Got Mail”; as if on a fated prophetic cue
I felt a knock on my heart and looked up in reply.
She had written a message with her eyes
Dipping her glance into the ink of her kohl.

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Comments
A subtly detailed picture, painted in small telling moments.
Quietly thrilling...like that first flush of attraction.
Perfect!
J ;)
Indeed. "...first flush of attraction."Â I couldn't have summed it better.Â
Shukriya Jason. Â :)
Hi Sambit This is so lovelyÂ
I enjoyed every word of the imagery you createdÂ
Great writeÂ
Best wishes DebsÂ
Shukriya so much Deborah! Much appreciated. And best wishes to you too. :)