Simile

I don’t know why

they don’t say

diamonds sparkle

like eyes,

or that stars

twinkle like eyes,

or that buttons

are as cute

as the young woman sitting

outside of Chipotle’s

this afternoon,

her eyes smiling

into mine,

life breathing in

and out of her nostrils,

and lips she had,

and curly, short hair,

too,

and skin the color

of smooth

with a ripple or maybe a leaf

floating on the surface -

here and there,

that touch of a smile.

And I will say

her eyes were darker and rounder

than age-darkened pennies.

And I will say

they gleamed

with playful warmth.

And now I think I will stop

playing with words

like a fool on a bench

and walk around the block

on the chance she really exists

and not just in these lines

and might look up at me

as if I do, too.