Eyes are the windows to the soul:
They are mirror-tales of some scripted hidden memoirs of whatever we are made of.
Beautiful as them these giant creatures:
Whales!
Moons bathing in style,
So many blue stories I have heard
But theirs a master script!
A blueing glare of my own soul,
Giant as you are!

Aren't screams enough to scare your jump ups?
I love you,
You look like stars ,only that you are sculptured.

My little nephew pulls the ears of a cute, tiny kitten
And I smile big,
But On my mind is
The grey that the blue of their skin these whales grace my eyes with!

I only see them in dreams:
It has to be when senses are suppressed,
This weirdness the lucid lurk slaps me with !

Iam not crazy,
My eyes are just a different kind of mystery.
© All Rights Reserved