She liked that look in his eyes -

that gaze which said

he’d seen something dark;

an abyss,

and it had seen into him

She wanted to possess it,

to have that edge,

but she was unfamiliar

with earning

So, she told her father

she didn’t like his terms,

and she left;

crashed on some couches;

burned some bridges

She dismayed when

her phone stopped working

Started second guessing

The edge,

obsidian knapped,

was sharper than she thought

And then one evening

he saw her and asked,

if it felt as beautiful as it looked

But, she offered nothing,

for she had seen no abyss,

just the inside of her eyelids

Ignorant, as always,

and now embarrassed

- This is one of my earliest poems. A slight revision from what I wrote on Sunday, April 25th, of 2010, in Sonoma County, California -