The Window

They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul,

But in your eyes I see the window firmly shut and curtained.

I see your soul's shadow dancing about. I hear the faint music from inside.

The mystery beckons and I am enchanted by the uncertain.

Your eyes emanate suggestive suggestions without ever uttering a word.

Hide your tongue, lest my fantasy it disprove.

But let me sit at the window and stare at your soul's silhouette,

For my own soul stirs, enraptured, by the view.