Solicitous, thoughtful and attentive, a pair of close-set ring balls encircled me everywhere I went, gazing at everything I did. Never did while young I think more about those beady eyes, I grew up to be under its vision, guessed I need not chase it after, as I had two pairs of such. Her suppressed silence sang within herself, never did I understand any of her compositions. Years after, those focused balls I was proud about, abandoned me, being mean still professing. Uncertain, unaware and unmindful, my attempt to define her shape wasn't futile. I recognise you now divine eyes, only you're left in me, not even myself.