The Look by Eyitemi Egwuenu There she stands,Queen of my dreams –her eyes –twin lighthouses formy storm-tossed soul. . . Her tresses flirtwith the wayward wind –coaxed air makes a lair in her hair. . . I will watch the moon leave its hiding,I will watch as nighttime falls,I will watch her heart and read therein, the beauty of it all. . . Here, I stand,washed by her eyes’ pool.Here, I bow – captured – a slave;not conquered by a sword – but a look. Eyitemi Egwuenu
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