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Once, twice, many times our eyes met upon glances as we sat across from each other.



Your hands, aged with time as I contemplate you being around 30 our eyes meet again and I quickly break contact. Your eyes the lightest of brown, more a hazel as I now wonder why we keep looking at one another. So captivated by your eyes I can't help but think you're reading my mind.



Laughing to myself, knowing that you couldn't be. Then again what do I really know? I can't help but see a youthful hope in your eyes. Scoffing to myself as I dismiss the thought of initiating conversation. Keeping my headphones on, eyes still wandering from my book upon your eyes.



Do you know me? Do I know you? I keep asking myself this as the chance to answer these questions fades with the movement of the bus.



As my mind thinks, my soul hopes for another chance to meet, so that I will act and not merely ponder.



Captivation, strange I rarely know its feeling.

COMMENTS

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Miss
02:34 Aug 11 2008

Very good.

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