CURIOUSITY CALLS

 

Curiosity Calls  

Curiosity is calling my eyes,

A quiet summons I cannot ignore,

To trace all the features, contours, dimples,

Etched upon your face like a map of wonders.

Each line tells a story, each shadow a secret,

A gallery of expressions I long to decipher.  

Overstimulated, I’m caught in a storm,

Not just by caffeine’s sharp, fleeting jolt,

But by dopamine’s wild, cascading hits,

A flood that surges through my veins,

Whenever you step into my sphere,

A presence that ignites my every nerve.  

In the realm of statistics, we’d name it correlation,

This uncanny sync, this unspoken rhythm,

A dance of souls synchronized beyond reason.

We move as if plotted on the same graph,

Two points aligned by an unseen equation,

Defying the chaos of chance with our harmony.  

I find flashes of home in your eyes,

A sanctuary glowing in their hazel depths,

Where light fractures like dawn through a forest.

In your persistent determinism, I see myself—

A mirror of will, a quiet strength,

A resolve that anchors me when I drift.  

You’d never let me walk away unscathed,

Not without a fight, a tug at this thread,

A proof of care woven into the moment.

Time bends here, pliable and strange,

Stretching thin or folding tight,

Relative to the depths and widths of our words.  

Our conversations are rivers, winding and deep,

Where minutes blur into hours, then vanish,

Lost in the currents of thought we share.

Each exchange builds a bridge between us,

Spanning the silence with laughter and pause,

A connection that feels both vast and fragile.  

More often than not, lately, it’s you—

You who ends up painting my days with light,

A sun I didn’t expect to rise so bright,

Breaking through the gray of routine,

Warming the edges of my ordinary world,

A gift I hold close but cannot name.  

Yet beneath this joy, questions simmer,

A quiet tide I cannot release,

An impossible plea locked behind my lips.

How do you feel when the air hums between us?

What do you think when our glances collide?

What do you see, hear, process,

When I am swimming in your hazel eyes,

Lost in their reflection, adrift in their pull?  

I wonder at the worlds behind your gaze,

The thoughts that flicker like distant stars,

Too delicate to grasp, too vast to voice.

Do you sense the same spark, the same tremor,

When our orbits align, when silence speaks?

I cannot ask—some truths are too tender,

Too heavy to lift from the depths where they rest.  

So I linger here, suspended in wonder,

Content to wander the landscape of your face,

To chase the echoes of home in your eyes,

To feel the pulse of our sync without proof.

Curiosity calls, and I answer—

Swimming still in the mystery of you.