When I see you
I cast my eyes downward
at the
leftover stubble
with bits of white
that tell me you will be gray soon.

your eyes are trained on mine.
Those green eyes that
every woman who has loved you
has loved.
I wonder if
they ever saw ‘em like this,
brimmed red
clashing with the swirl
of the colors of your shirt.
I wonder how many
were in it this long,
this far.

And yet--
the red green of your eyes
light up
like Christmas decorations,
when I call you names
when I tap into that secret language
that is only ours.
When you grab my hand,
and hold
me still.

But when I hear you
saying ‘look me in the eye!’
I stand up to leave.
I could not stare any longer
or hear any other words
that might bring me closer
to you,
you old man
you terrific mess.

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