I got lost again today
This time not on the streets of Myanmar
It was those bold brown eyes of yours
Who'd have thought they were what would finally make me vulnerable?
My very own Achilles heel
If only the sun would get so vulnerable at the sight of the moon.
Perhaps we'd enjoy a different kind of light;
But then we'd miss the stars
And what then would I compare your eyes too?
Although it's hardly a comparison; the stars wish they were half what those eyes are.
© UtraX