The Language of The Eyes

‘Of all the jewels on your face, which do you consider the finest?’ he asked slyly.

‘First of all, all parts of my face are beautiful not fine,’ I said with a heavy stress on 'beautiful'.

‘Well, I think they’re your lips,’ he drew me closer. ‘They’re just so pink.’

‘Really,’ I raised my left brow with a scoff. 

'Anyways, I think that the most beautiful part of my face is my eyes,’ I said, as matter of fact.

‘Because they hold so much secrets that my lips are unable to tell,’ I started. 

‘My eyes try to tell the stories but no one listens. Probably because they do not understand the language of the eyes,’ I finished.

He bored his eyes into mine, as if to search for the stories written in black ink. 

I giggled, and walked ahead, then I called back, ‘Oo ki n soro oju’( you do not speak the language of the eyes). 

Zainab Aderounmu, 

LASU Chapter