Conceiling the eyes (1)

The concealment of eyes.
Sin and blessing of all.
Ability to be alone.
Her hair goes down.
I don't see, she sees some.
Matters only to her
and to you, who tries to go trough.
Why thus you push and shove,
you brutish idiot.
Gentleness and care should be you're line.
Patience you're game.
She wants and not her solitude.
She screams and whispers at the same time to all those who try.
but curls stand in the way,
only curls.
Gentle brush of a hand,
all that is needed,
A warm moon of a smile,
mighty pleasing.
Standing before you, all that there is,
pleased to the brim
because it has everything.