I’d count how many strands of hair there are
in his eyebrows — left and right.
I’d stay up all night just to see how he slowly opens his eyes
in the morning;
and how the very first rays of the sun
reveal the chestnut beneath the ebony of his eyes.
I’d fall in love with how he flips his lashes
like big Malay fans
creating mini-winds that leave my heart
©All rights reserved. Photo not mine.