His eyes glisten with the tiny diamond drops of the sky’s downpour. I can see a rainbow somewhere through those little balls that bear his sight. I wonder what he sees in me. In him, I see the moon, the stars, the hazy clouds, the perfect evening portrait. In him, I see the flock of birds rotating in mid-air, the reflection of the sun’s undying light, the inimitable grayness of the overhead dawn. In him, I see everything beautiful. In him, in those eyes, I wonder what he could see through me.
I wonder. If. He even sees me.
I wonder
