It's a sunny but chilly afternoon by the lake. Everything is blurry so I pose by the dock and grab my telescopes to look into you. I mimic a surgeon and my stare is like an incision to your soul.
You lie on the hammock, gracefully like you're sitting on the brink of the crescent moon. Afraid that any clumsy movement might tip of the world to the underlying secrets to your soul.
Your small hands, dwindle into the light and soak in the summer rays. I magnify the telescope but the closer I zoom in, the craftier the illusion.
Heavenly is the word I love to think of, when I see your brown marble eyes, sparkle and gaze into the world. Looking into them is like a sensational drowning experience.
I marvel at how gently you rock the hammock, sort of like your calm approach to the world. The patterns of your movement captivate me, make me want to dig deeper, implore your soul and devour your otherworldly thoughts.
The butterflies around you in a synchronized harmony glorifying your presence with the multitude of colors on their wings. They vibrate in awe as if also heeding to the fact that the view on my lenses is a rare constellation.
By this moment, both my lenses and I crave a clearer resolution but for now, we enjoy the perspective of the telescope.
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