The Howl Of The Wolves Sometimes I wonder what people see. How do we know that we all see the same thing. What happens if everyone sees colours differently, just learn the same names as that's what we have been taught... If that's so I like my colours. I love the colour of his eyes as they twinkle in the twilight. Bright glazing yellow. Souring the woods never judging never moaning. Just there, yellow. Hunting me out in the moonlight. The loving gaze of the predator. I walk forward a step and he flees. Instinct over action. Love behind yellow eyes never flinching but always remaining 10 feet away. He stands there behind the bushes, watching, waiting for some kind of resolution to our difference. Magical moments. Time lapsed between us. Obsession, lust, linger one second too long. The night chill fills my bones and shakes me to the ground. Time passed. Aeons in simple pictures. I now stand by his side. Simple pictures. Us by the lake. Ruffs together. Sad beautiful eyes. We are one.