Their eyes met across a crowded room. The slippery, gelatinous marbles rolled between shoes, under chairs, to collide damply next to the hostess’ buffet table.
The attraction was immediate: their pupils dilated, their optic nerves flailed, seeking brains to rave to about this crystalline sclera, the vivid ultramarine of that iris.
Alas, the message could not be conveyed. The erstwhile owners of these star-crossed lovers screamed and stumbled, the party atmosphere evaporated as the mismatched fugitives hid behind the hem of the tablecloth.
There, they gazed longingly into each other’s pupils until an enterprising bichon frise snapped them both up.
Tom Juniper Poetry 