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His Eyes

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I really couldn't tell you
The color of his eyes
They may be of the twinkling sort
Or of the brooding kind
Any shade or hue of light
Pooling in the iris
Turning up in playfulness
Or slanting out in shyness

But his eyes they look toward me
Directly and with purpose
And they look not at but in me
Deeply to ensure this
His eyes they listen and they speak
Without a single sound
And my eyes they do respond
Conversation does abound



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