How do you

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    How do you

    pull away from the eyes that captivate you.
    from the eyes that know what you are thinking.
    the ones that pull you closer.
    and the one that hold you with out touching you.
    the ones you trust when you feel all reason of doubt.
    and the ones that eliminate all reasons of uncertainty.
    the one who's intense emotion hold you in the moment.
    when the moment has passed.
    and smile that still presence when all you want to do.
    is hide your face.
    verses facing the emotion that resides one in the moment.
    that is no longer in linger.
    the eyes that hold your memory.
    when you are days upon seeing them.
    and the minutes that count down.
    till you get to encounter them again.
    the eyes that hold your heart.
    and the skipping beat of every happy time you get.
    and the amount of gratitude you get.
    just by being in the present moment of them.
    the smile that weakens your knees.
    and sends you over your own limits.
    the smile that reassures you of the reasons not to doubt,
    and the reason that tomorrow will bring same result.
    as today's end..
    and the timeless reaction of the soul having no impact.
    of the resolution of the actual emotion.
    the smile that tells all.
    and the smile that tells nothing.
    but the same reflection of what you feel.
    the turning of the developments of the satisfactory it brings.
    when you see the relief.
    and the sigh of only their smile.
    And you know they feel the same.
    The hands that touch you leaving goose bumps all over your body.
    and ones that leave you longing for more.
    The hands without direction.
    know where and how to touch.
    with no touching at all.
    The hands with the gentlest touch.
    and ones that leave you grabbing for more.
    the hands that touch your heart.
    without meaning to at all.

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    When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

    John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

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