I stared,
You asked what it was,

But an angel was infront me,
Their gaze fixated on mine.

Whose glance could miss,
How your hair agreed with the sun rays?

Who could miss the way you smelt,
Even when you consumed onion rings?

The kiwi scent still lingered,
The vanilla taste, my ice cream,

"What is it?" You asked smiling again,
“My eyes just became a prey to your den.”