Thirteen ways of looking at her

I.
A home, set inside two honeyed eyes. It is her 

II.
Her face, which marvels the modern world. Somehow sweeter than pure corn syrup. 

III.
Like two magnets, my heart and hers. I am across the world and feel a heavy pull. 

IV.
Cinnamon constellations dust across her soft skin landscape. Look closer, only I can find the little dipper. 

V.
She stands. Wherever she is, the solitary thing. 

VI.
She and I, just like two stone fruits. Our stems connect. Maybe our pits make us one? 

VII.
The world, fossilized in amber. Her left pupil dotted with freckles. 

VIII.
Among thirty some adolescents in perfect rows, my eyes seem to constantly find hers. 

IX.
She stares at me. Does she know my heart and mind pour paragraphs for her? 

X.
In my hand, a key. I give it to her. 

XI.
My mind is bewitched. I am a tourist and she is a deer. I am afraid to alarm 

XII.
Something has never been this beloved. A face like the softest melody. May her hands be tender with my porcelain heart. 

XIII.
There is a phone ringing. My heart wishes it to be her.