I see your lips through the space between books.
I see your hair flutter by.
I see you take your seat across from me.
Now my eyes don’t leave your eyes.

The wind against our skin is harsh and brisk.
Your nervous laugh escapes upon goodbye.
Outside the bookstore’s where we must depart,
But my eyes can’t leave your eyes.

Pastor Troy reveals the rings we forged
From our passion and our pride.
I promise him and I promise you
That my eyes won’t leave your eyes.

Your grip is tight and your breath is short.
It doesn’t take much to realize
That today will be my final day,
And my eyes must leave your eyes.