In Solitude

Walking down this utterly personal, solitary road,
I see before my eyes the shadows of a thousand faces,
every face trembling within your eyes alone.

If any one of them possessed
even a fragment of your beauty,
I would call them close, laughing, and say,
'Where did you find such a murderous gaze?'

Understanding the sound of their voice, or
reading the signals in their eyes...
I would lose you, perhaps,
or find myself.