Arthur Schopenhauer would not be such a pessimist if he had the luck to see your eyes. Your eyes, your deep thoughtful eyes, mirror the universe. Every ion and every atom, that churns in the distant black hole or the stupendous milky way of a faraway galaxy, flickers the same ethereal dance in your eyes. In them, I see star-trails and shooting stars as fleeting shyness. When I look at you, I feel very tiny and dignified, just as I felt the other moon-less night when I stood there on the seashore. I feel like I am a part of you and slowly but surely I am warming up to the idea that you, with the entire multiverse sculpted onto your beautiful eyes, are a part of me.
PS: If you check the exif data and end up thinking that I stole this image from John Petranka, then you are almost correct. I did steal John's new 7D for the afternoon. :-)