"What Are You Looking At?"

"What are you looking at?", She asked me,

As I was going to reply very casually, I stopped.

I realised there was no casual reply, no amount of lingual efficacy would suffice,

That led me to think with renewed vigour, how frustrating to not be able to express: Be precise,

I realised my incapability, my entire vocabulary and all dictionaries at my disposal just dropped,

Had to manifest a reply for the sake of decorum, Creativity unleashed: Set my imagination free! 

For I was looking at Her, but how do I convey WHAT I was looking at?

All the stars in the night sky, the red-orange leaves in Autumn,

The blue of the seas, the green of the trees and the red of blood,

All these I see, when I look at Her & this is just Her eyes: A Visual flood,

The densest forests and the most undulating plains are Her hair, from top to bottom,

It has been a while since she asked me this, I need to reply soon or prematurely end our chat...

I see snowy peaks and valleys deep as my gaze comprehends Her frame,

What words would do justice to my vision, what etymon should I employ!

Meadows I see, in Her fragrant skin, along the coastlines of Her limbs,

I realise she is still awaiting a reply as I dumbly gaze on with unabashed aim,

Her expression changes as She realises I am lost in Her, this revelation I enjoy,

I Smile and She blushes, every other source of light, except Her, dims;

She asks me again, with a grin on Her lips, "What are you looking at?",

Cognition finally kicks in, I form words in my head to try and satiate Her with an answer,

So many words my brain tries and deems unworthy, have I lost speech, with words so few?

I take Her hand and guide her to a corner and there we sat,

Her smile never wavered and nor did mine, For the lack of a better reply, I told Her,

"You. I was looking at you."