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His Eyes
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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