Literature
From Charon
I dare not look you in the eyes.
I'll stare at anything, your mouth, your breasts
the way your skirt slides over smooth skin
- an ocean wave touching pristine sand
but not in the eyes.
It isn't what you think. I'm not scared
of you, nor intimidated by you.
You're beautiful, but beauty is not rare
and I fear it no more than you -
nor seek it out with wintry fingers of frost
But I will not look you in the eyes.
When the embers smolder -
the remnants of your home seared into earth,
You stand in gawking disbelief
not that it was gone, but that you cared
so much that "gone" meant something,
something more than "irreplaceable"
so