Dark, black eyes adorn a face.
Dark irises which lend enigma to pink, tender lips. Set against fair skin, they attract everybody. Filled with rheum, they dance to the tunes of an unheard song, they shine with the glitterness of quicksilver, they laugh at a fluttering butterfly. Trying to capture it, they seem to protect it, in it's realms.
A photograph is bagged. An attempt to preserve the euphoria. I get hooked to those eyes again, that which is printed on glossy paper.
Innocent eyes that long for kindness and happiness. From sugar crystals to everything beautiful in this world. Eyes which demand immediate attention. They crave for fame, transient and yet enchanting. I hardly see them. When i do, i can stare into them for hours together.
Searching for something new. They seek happiness in a mundane lifestyle. That which spots charisma in a flower. That which long to play with sunbeams. That which is fascinated by shadows.
Captivating. They trap me. In an alluring grip. I find it difficult to free myself. A seductive trap. Thick eyelashes which accentuate the effectiveness.
Sometimes, they refuse to converse with me, irrespective of the amount of pleading that goes in. Most of the times, they abound with chatter, that which can never be accomplished by an ever-moving pair of lips. A communication only between the two of us. Secretive.
I close my eyes, and they instantly appear. Haunting me. I dream about meeting those eyes again.