Nothing Unusual

Nothing unusual about your eyes,

only that they’re a little too common.

Nothing remarkable in their blackness,

only that it reminds me of the nights

we spent away from each other, struggling

under the sky, vowing to set ablaze

everything that refused to burn with us.

Nothing extraordinary in the gleam

of tears that are half hidden by the lids,

only that I presume them to be love.

Indeed they are your love and a lot more-

they are your liquid soul; they are your voice,

untouched, orphaned for an eternity.

They burn me; is that unusual?