The Desire of My Eyes

The Desire of My Eyes
By
Brian Francis Heffron
5/28/12

The desire of my eyes is a dark star that I willingly vanish into.
Pulled by the invisible gravity of those two dark-hole pupils.
I tumble, unharmed, into a deep delicate chasm of kindness and heart.

(The draw so powerful, yet so smooth and soft,
That I feel again the silken edge of an infant's velvet blanket.)

She moves in grace through her daily toil of activity and stress.
Some tasks joyful, some endlessly exhausting, but both borne equally cheerful.
Still, her dark star shines true: A powerful implausible glimmer throughout the night.

There is now no space where I end and she begins. 
There is no space where I lose and she wins.
Connection is as: 
Skin to body, 
Heart to hand, 
Breath to breathing, 
All in one, all.

Still, much more fragile than glass;
Rife with hidden hairline cracks and foul flaws.
Always projecting out, expecting the worst.
Could anything solidify this crumbling quartz?
A weakened spirit rife with crystal cracks?

The desire of my eyes is: 
Pure patient and unpressed,
So I am
Drawn by her placid calm 
Or inner lake of love
To set sail on same 
And sing a song of giving only.

She caresses me in a way I cannot describe.
Meekly I melt against her, 
Steering by instinct this craggy coast of an unknown island.
She speaks with a curving softness.
I hear her voice above all others.
She knits me a fluffy sweater of  blue fleece the color of my eyes.
There is no place we are not together now, 
Especially when we are apart.
The connection is one of 
Canvas to brush, 
And together we become the 
Art when they touch.