Acquaintances - - Amit Verma, Jaipur

( Read 562 Times)

She doesn't know me, nor do I know her,
Yet our souls seem to remember each other.
Our insides meet, though not (our) outsides.
(Except her eyes, I've looked at little besides)

Eyes of pleasure, Eyes of pain,
Eyes that cry, while the mouth smile in vain.
Intelligent orbs, that contain my being all,
When she shuts them tight, over my world does fall.

But I'll sit in the hallowed darkness, near her heart
Till, with one last look, we close our eyes, and part.
Then she won't know me, and I won't know her,
Though our eyes will long remember each other.