The me inside of you

“I love your eyes” such windows they must be to you 

Able to see every thought and prick you leave through disks of brown 

“I love your eyes”  is all you seem to say but it’s clear to me it’s not the color 

Or shape or width that excites you but the turning tide you see inside that entices you 

 An image of you that gets clearer under the flash of the moon when you open your windows 

“I love myself” is what you really mean and I love you for not being like me.