A praise of being looked into

"If one of my words
pleases you
and you tell me
even only with your eyes
I break out
in a blissful smile—
but I tremble
like a small young mother
who blushes if even
a passerby remarks
her baby's lovely."
Desmond O'Grady

Nearing almost every sunset, the water stills and transforms itself into a large mirror, as if the river was preparing himself to receive the twilight. The windows in the yellow buildings reflect the azure sky and creates a chess pattern of opposite colors.

She is beautiful and calm. I let myself float into the perceptions and to comment freely about the manifested. The day consumes itself and today the colors won't come. I never know when the colors will come.

She says I'm a good observer, and turning to me the lateral light sparkles her eyes and hair. Green-blue eyes and long warm ripply hair. She says never to have noticed the colors, and I feel as if with a baby in my arms.

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