I do not know if you recognize the sparkle in your eyes,

There is a warmth, in the same way the sun breaks through blinds in the morning,

In how subtly it fills the room with a rose-colored haze.

I know it’s not polite to stare into them forever, but if given the chance, I would chart every hue of your eyes-
an eon of swatches so,
So I never run out of names for forever.