It was your eyes—their depths, their silent eloquence—that ensnared me. In their irises, I glimpsed my own reflection, a mirror of my very soul. Not your legs, not your hands, nor the curve of your lips held this enchantment. No, it was your eyes—the twin constellations that dissolved my melancholy, avenging an entire past where love had eluded me.

Your gaze, a secret language, whispered of good days yet to unfold. It spoke of distant miracles, those sacred moments that lovers share in silence. And so, I remain mute, a silent witness, waiting to behold you, to love you. When our eyes meet, you beckon my mouth to yours—not for words, but for kisses. You summon my touch, not in gestures, but upon your body.

In your gaze, love blossomed—a fragile bloom, fragile yet fierce. It bestowed upon me foreseen charms, dreams I had cradled within. And suddenly, I was part of this world, tethered to time, my heart alight with happiness. Not only your mouth, not only your hands, nor your entire form—your eyes ignited my desires, kindling flames that consumed my very essence.

They undressed me, those eyes, stripping away fears of plunging into love’s abyss. It was your eyes—their tender weight, their unspoken promises—that led me to fall. I fell in love with you through your eyes, for they are yours, and in their depths, I found my salvation.

© Beatriz Esmer