For a long time, when I was a child, I could not look people in the eyes. I did not. This is supposed to be a sign that the person is shy or hesitant. I suppose I was.
Now I crave eyes. Someone’s eyes tell everything, betray everything, hide nothing. Body language, too, but when you look someone in the eyes, it’s all. A life entire, right there, starting with the pitch and irradiating out like heat from the canopy, slowly, outwardly, contracting and expanding, and it’s all placed in this space, so tiny, so fragile, really, that I know why people speak of gazing, swimming, flying, diving, seeing the soul. Seeing the universe.
Give me your eyes. I’ll keep them safe.