The Shimmer

 To The Lady on the Train,

Union Station used to belong to us. It was a place where we spent time with each other, talking, crying, laughing - but mostly our time was spent learning about each other. 

It is there where I first commented on your eyes after marvelling at how changeable they are. I remember a time we sat on dingy seats in a quieter corner waiting for your train to board. Your eyes were oval pools of shimmering light brown. It’s as if that shimmer is a veil that separates this world from one far more mysterious and magical. And that is when I started falling into the universe that you contain. I fell into your place of wonders and I have never left. 

I have seen those eyes only a dozen times. Oh, I have seen your eyes where they shine brilliantly, and I have seen your eyes half mooned and soft. I have seen your eyes round and hard and black as obsidian. In all the shapes and hues and combinations of your eyes I have only been drawn further into your mystery. It is dizzying in the best way.

Tonight I looked into your eyes and you told me to stop. I was falling, as I always do and you could see it. Maybe I am crazy and perhaps I am wrong, but I thought that I could see a hint of that shimmer in the bright of your smiling eyes. I wanted to just stand there, close to you, feeling the warmth of your arm against mine, falling into your eyes and letting the world vanish. I could have stood there for hours just seeing only you and feeling only my heart racing. I was already lost.

I think of your eyes often. I think of the colours and shimmer. I think of the shapes and the light. I remember seeing and think of your face and I try to hold onto every moment. In dreams I can see your face and your eyes. I see you best in dreams where I can linger and fall freely.

And I will never stop dreaming of you every night of my life. 

The Man in the Station