The Maze

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First meetings are always measured and defensive. They are like a silent game of chess, or treacherous fields of landmines, where a single wrong move can spell doom. So, forgive me if it comes out too blunt. Or too early. But I have to admit: you have an insanely beautiful pair of eyes. Some eyes are silent. Some speak volumes. Your eyes, they look like a promise of a mysterious tale: an adventure…the smells of marshland…a comfort of honey-breads…a sudden danger lurking out of the woods. Soft, mellow, dark, unknown. Your eyes are an interior monologue of a dying star, unheard and beyond hearing, nested inside an infinity of cosmic clouds and dark matter. Fortunate are those who had the chance to look inside that maze.

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