Eyes tell stories but do they know how to craft fiction?
Do they know how to spin lies?
His eyes swear forever, flatter with vows of only me.
But are they empty promises?
I stare into his eyes, like looking into a crystal ball, but I cannot find forever, only movies of yesterday, a sketchbook idea of today, and dreams of a possible tomorrow.
His eyes whisper secrets.
But are they truths or fairy tales? I wonder if he even knows....
