Systematization and connections

Yuri Kuzin
"Languishing eyes"
I don't like counting crows. Just allow it, and in your head, as in a hotel room, where you are allowed to sleep for a ruble a day, and where those with salaries as big as a nose sleep, a whole camp is packed together...
They'll fly. They will start singing and dancing. Please gild the handle.
One day I went out to catch my breath. Give me, I think I’ll buy a party - newspapers, they say, are good at getting bath cockroaches out of your head. I'm buying. I'm unfolding it. And there is a man. Sleek. The mustache is trimmed evenly. And the eyes are black, with smoke, like trunks after shooting. DOVLATOV.
Here the demon urges: find out, they say, who, and what? And he himself, the rascal, throws fantasies into my furnace: they say, from now on you are not a bathhouse attendant, Grishka, but an investigator and “especially important!”
- Well, I think, I'm crazy!
I would like to splash some cold water on the stones and stop, so to speak, the mischief. Yes, the devil, the scoundrel, turns your soul inside out like a glove. Creepy! Chilly! At least take out the saints! I would like to give the evil one a beating, so to speak, so that he knows our people, but how can you deal with the evil one when the enemy has already saddled you like an old gelding and lets you go: now at an amble, now at a trot, now at a gallop?
“Come on,” I will open to my imagination all the window frames, boarded up for the winter with sleeping flies in the openings, “let me get through this citizen, Dovlatov!”
I am a subordinate, that means.
And they told me: “What’s there to break through, Comrade Senior Investigator. It’s immediately obvious that he’s seasoned.”
- It is seen? - I will draw my eyebrows over my eyes and sniff at the hangnail with a face as red as a tomato. Ferdyshchenko will stink. And the opera’s bouquet is persistent, tart, I would even say vodka-like, like the boxes that gather dust in the warehouse of the item docs.
- Or maybe he’s not a robber at all? - the clear-voiced Ninka, a forensic expert who can’t be lured out of the anatomy department with a roll of bread, will give hope. This is someone who likes to gossip with the dead about his Igor (he’s also a womanizer).
“Yeah, he’s not an authority,” San Sanych, the personnel officer who ate a single dog at the peaks, grits his teeth. - A shopkeeper, I suppose. The deadline is ticking. Bitten off. Kuma snitched. And now he’s hiding in the storm so as not to sit at the rooster’s table...
From these biting expressions I shudder and stand up in the stirrups of my mind - they say, even though I’m a bathhouse attendant, I still use a hairdryer. Oh, this damn bathhouse! What kind of burrs can you plant in the brain, combing out tangles from lousy souls and bodies!
“...and he has accounting eyes,” San Sanych will put an end to it.
Everyone will stare with admiration at the expert - a well-built man, forty-five years old, with a “Guimplen” smile on his cheeks sewn up with large stitches.
“Let me take a look, Sanych,” Gritsai, the interrogator, snatches the photo from the personnel officer. - What kind of accountant is this? - he will say sourly. - This is a burglar. Shchipach. He fattened up his face like a godfather. The hostel, I think, is holding up. Or he parses the presentations according to concepts.
Here even those who have been holed up in the recesses of my brain will come up to look at the shot sparrow.
“You are stupid, boys,” Zoechka from ballistics will plunge her bust into the “mighty bunch”, like an icebreaker into a meter-long shelf. - The actor is Omar Sharif. He starred in The Gold of Makena. He and Gregory Peck fought there. On belts. Like, who wins who wins gold.
- And who wins? - Zvontsov, a trainee, will ask from afar.
“Yes, both are good,” Zoechka’s bust will dance under the persistent and tenacious gaze of the young specialist. - They, the bourgeoisie, wash their hands. Happyend, so to speak...
- Actor, you say? - the mocking Rabinovich will approach his colleagues imposingly, like a lord, and it’s a piece of cake for him to create an identikit.
- Soooo... The citizen is on his own mind. A brainiac, so to speak. And also handsome. Male. Jew - in a word...
Everyone here, of course, will shrug their shoulders and timidly stare at me.
- Jew? - I will strictly suppress the propaganda of Zionist ideas.
“Most typical,” Rabinovich will take me by the elbows and lead me to the window, where, in the light of the slanting rays of the setting sun, the personality of the wanted person will sparkle with new colors. “Look at the face,” the rogue taps the photograph with a long, claw-like finger. - It's oval. The forehead is wide, like Moses. The eyes are almond-shaped. Get used to it. The eyebrows are thick and fused. And the sly man cut his head to hide his curls. They seem to curl around him like Absalom's. He angered his father, David. He's in pursuit. And the son, running away, hung on the branches of a spreading oak tree. So it got caught in my hair. So he swayed in the wind, the poor fellow, until he was killed...
“This is terrible,” Ninka even crosses her arms over her chest.
- And this, well, Dovlatov, he’s a relative of the victim Aves... what’s his name? - Ferdyshchenko will suddenly wake up, who had just taken a nap.
“In connections,” Rabinovich will smile slyly. - That's why he gets his hair cut. He is afraid that he will reveal his strength. Bogatyrskaya.
- Bogatyrskaya? - Zoechka will open her eyes wide, and her chest will dance with Kamarinsky.
- That's it. Among the Jews, Zoechka, the longer the patlas, the cooler the men. Remember Samson...
Of course, I will also strain my memory. But instead of the golden bearded man tearing the jaws of a lion at the fountain in Peterhof, what comes to mind is for some reason the gentle hippie Genka, fleeing from Komsomol members with scissors in his hands.
- And what about David? - Ninka will ask, almost crying, with a handkerchief over her eyes.
- I sprinkled ashes on my head. And he kept sobbing, bitterly saying: “Oh, Absalom! O Absalom!
Here everyone, of course, will begin to grieve about the Old Testament loser, entangled in the branches of a spreading oak tree.
“It turns out,” I will interrupt the funeral feast, “if this man, wearing cast gloves, had grown his hair to his toes, like Samson, he could have dragged the Aurora along the Neva?”
Everyone will look at me again, their jaws dropping like the buckets of excavators.
- And what? - Rabinovich throws up his hands, marveling at this prospect. - If, of course, you tie it with ropes, then - quite...
Here Nina’s tears will be shed, her frequent sobs will be heard, as if the doors of all the dead will creak and fall off at once.
“I knew... I knew,” Ninka will sniffle, “that he’s not a robber,” and will add with some kind of strain in his voice: “He’s kind of sad... And his eyes are sad, sad... With a languor....”
Now I’ll take in my hands a photo from which Mozgan and Ace will look at me coldly, hiding the fire of their souls behind the VOLOKA - and what the woman won’t blurt out so as not to be branded a fool!
- With vo-lo-koy, you say? - I will chew the syllables like crushed dope that Turkmens use instead of lunch. - With a thorn, or what?
“No, no,” Ninka grins, “with a veil.” It's as if you came to the theater and there was a fire there! And the curtain falls. Firefighter. He holds back the fire so that he doesn’t go over to the ground. That's what I'm talking about such eyes. They cover their eyelashes so as not to burn them right through...
At this point the devil will fall from my shoulders - apparently, the damned one will turn out to be not a very experienced rider.
“Give me,” he says, “put your foot in the stirrup.” And there, I’ll show you such Disneylands, Grigory, I’ll take you on such rollercoasters as you’ve never ridden in your life...
- No! - I say. - I can do it!
And I myself pinch my ear painfully in order to awaken from the demonic darkness. And all sorts of nonsense comes into my head. This is what it means to count crows. But the evil one, it seems, is throwing wood on the fire here too. - What if they are right? - whispers sweetly, riding my thought and even making its way inside it, like a bark beetle hid between the cambium and phloem. - What if the power is in that very hair? What if you write - and don’t be foolish at all, but do something big that will make sense, if, of course, you don’t tell three big lies and don’t create a garden that you can’t climb over yourself?
And I don't argue.
I'm just going home. I cut out a portrait of a writer from a party. I attach it with a pin to the wallpaper above the bed. And in general I’m going to grow my hair like Samson’s. They will not add strength to me. But they will hide their eyes - narrow, like the slots for coppers in a soda machine.
I also kidnapped Dovlatov from the library. Read it from cover to cover. But I didn’t understand a single word.
VOLOKA - this is what clouds my mind, what fetters my will. I was born to laugh at chickens, and until I myself raise this damn curtain, until I trim the fat from my memory, until I peel off the skin from my mind - to the ball of muscles, to the creaking of tendons - the fire blazing behind the stage will heat the Cosmos, in where I won’t find a bed.
But I don’t want to serve as a bathhouse attendant anymore. I'll quit. Tomorrow.
St. Petersburg July 21, 2018

Comments

It is not very clear for what purpose you are leading the reader into a suite of metaphors and semantic levels. Maybe this is metarealism in prose?

According to M. Epstein, “metarealism intensely seeks that reality within which metaphor can again be revealed as a metamorphosis, as a genuine mutual involvement, and not a conditional similarity of two phenomena. Metarealism is not only “metaphysical”, but also “metaphorical” realism, that is, the poetry of that reality that is hidden inside a metaphor and unites its divergent meanings - direct and figurative." The main trope of metareal poetry, according to Epstein, is metabola, distinct from both metaphor and metonymy.

Your question is symptomatic))) - I admit, I myself don’t understand anything about isms... I act on a whim, spontaneously, as, for example, in the following fragment...

“Vaska” (fantastic story) FRAGMENT
God said: “Die, Vaska!” and I died.
This happened today. The day before my ninth birthday. A minute after the midday cannon fired, spewing out a lump of stale air, the melted snow fell, turned black and smelled like curdled milk...
At the same second when I was broken like a willow branch on an April Sunday morning, in the Venetian lagoon, the gloomy Anna, having run through Dante’s terzina: “Earthly life, having gone halfway…”, put the tablet into her backpack; stood up; stretched; walked up, stepping from stone to stone, to freckled Agnes; kissed the crown of the head; She hugged her shoulders and asked confidentially: “Have you fucked yet? Just don’t lie, it’s not!”
“What’s on your mind,” she answered, cheerfully hitting the water with her heels.
I don’t know how, but I heard all this chatter.
I also visited the wilds of Africa, the prairies of Arizona, the narrow streets of Toledo and smog-shrouded Shanghai, where everything was teeming with the Chinese who crowded on the cornea of ​​my eyes - all 24,000,000.
I knew everyone by name, as if I were a microbe cloning itself to tour the planet it was about to conquer.
“I have a joyful death!” - I thought. But before my consciousness faded away like a picture tube (my mother and I still had a Soviet TV), I saw the Turk Ali, who, having finished vacuuming the carpet in Mrs. Gustafsson’s house in Stockholm, handed the dog Jaco a piece of stringy meat and deep-throated, - Kurdish: “Eat, son of Satan! Who else will feed you in this hole, if not a Muslim.”
I saw the freeloader, lazily wagging his tail, approach the janitor and snatch the steak from his hand.
In a second, I managed to visit one million two hundred thousand cities, but after Jaco, without chewing, swallowed a piece, I began to fall on my back, as in Tarantino’s films, where someone struck by a bullet does not fall as if cut down, but for a long time and painfully folded in parts.
I was flying with the back of my head towards the core of the Earth. I thought about the bottle that Grishechkin (that was the name of the leader of the murderers) threw in my face, apparently out of dislike for humanity.
“He brushed me off like a partridge,” I thought.
I heard how this whole cavalcade rolled up to me, how they lamented the troubles that would fall on their heads with my disappearance from the Hominid family, from the species Homo sapiens.
I felt how these locusts suddenly moved from their place and how they flew, chirping their wings, to the corner of the fifteenth line and Maly.
I bent over myself. “If only I could remove the body out of sight,” I thought, “somewhere in the fourth yard, where there was a dead end with the rusting carcasses of cars, and where my mother,” I was sure, “would not look for me.”
But my body treacherously clung to the asphalt; I even thought it shook its fist at me.
“What,” I thought, “if “he” is alive? This thought pricked me, forcing me to look carefully into my own eyes - piercing gray, staring in surprise at the cold square of the sky, and glance at the chipped fragment, smelling of hops and malt. One of its teeth stuck out in my temporal bone, and the other, long, like a stalagmite, sat in my brain.
I decided to examine the corpse before an avalanche from the top trapped all my atoms in the Greenland ice.
I thought that I could squeeze at least a drop of life out of the body; I began to take inventory of the damage; dived into the bloodstream, into a broken artery, in which the red blood cells suddenly turned out to be green, like the Irish on St. Patrick's Day.
The fun that reigned here - apparently, rumors of my death had not yet reached the inhabitants - cheered me up, and I even dared to look into my slightly open mouth: the teeth were intact, the tongue was not bitten, and the vocal cords (chordae vocales verae) were intact. perfect, because the speech therapist to whom my mother took me sculpted them, like a sculptor who removed with a chisel all that was unnecessary: ​​lambdacisms, sigmatisms, rhotacisms.
Then I walked along the back. One shoulder blade was sticking out, the result of a birth injury: the midwife squeezed me out, forbidding my mother to perform a caesarean section (“He himself must go through fire, water and copper pipes!”) In retaliation, I locked myself in the womb until they pushed me out “in the back.”
The hypoxia almost damaged my brain. But the character was spoiled. I was born bilious and suspicious, which showed on my face. It was asymmetrical, although beautiful: something from the youth Vasnetsov, whose eyes - shiny, clouded - were outrageously wide, and whose facial features were fragile, like church crystal; neck current, like a candle; the outline of the cheeks is intricate, like Byzantine script; the ears are delicately outlined; and the mouth is both meek and bold.
I think I would drive any woman crazy if I lived to the age of libido, when nature whispers words of love into a boy’s ears, pressing his wet, hot lips to them...
Beginning option 2... And why don’t the kids shine with their heels when the adults crowd around the playground? Vaska was a philosopher at the age of nine. And when they grabbed the bottle against the hill, and then, filling it with hatred, threw it in his face, he did not shy away. Bullitt was mesmerizing! Time itself swooned. And Vaska plunged his cold fingers into his loose flesh. Half asleep, he saw how a knife, flashing in the sun, peeled the pulp from an apple - and what is death, he thought, no matter how light a snack! The marks of the teeth remained on the juicy pulp of the fruit, which had already undergone rusting. And Vaska waited with bated breath for the chipped glass to corkscrew the frosty air from the April half-oblivion. And, having wound a ballistic curve around the temporal bone of the arrowhead, the fragment settled in his puppy brain, as if it belonged there...
Start option 3...
- Banners! - a boyish soprano runs up the flimsy steps... You turn around at the watercolor smear of a voice thrown onto the damp paper of dawn... No one! You are looking for the loudmouth on the paths and in the crevices - what if the urchin knows: how long will you continue to trudge through this heat, endure the blows of the heavy fringe tassels, endure the cuts and abrasions that the shaft that pinned you to the ground puts on your shoulders and palms? And if it’s true that heaven is just a stone’s throw away, if it’s true that only those who dump at the feet of Christ banners with the names of deaths that have spoiled children are allowed in, let him say so bluntly. You glance at the little girl who, like you, has set up a bivouac on the side of the road. And when the roadside dust, turning your face into a death mask, melts your hot cheeks with stearin, and the emery of the dry wind, grinding away your dry lips, sweeps out vitamin-deficient blood globules from the crevices and caverns, a wave of sweet suffocation rolls over and breaks into your enthusiastic gaze. And there is something to admire: ten steps from you, swaying in the wind like the tongue of a candle, stands a figure woven from light. The creature entered the door, cut into the wall of the heat, which had already extracted gouache from the jars, and threw the thick gilding of the sun onto the primed cardboard of the morning, covered in core chips. The guest steps carefully, in small steps, like a watchmaker who has adjusted an ancient clock. The light is dark, and you drink this steaming drink with your cornea, without fear of getting burned. But doubt gnaws at you: what if an insidious killer came to the light? All strangers are smeared with the same world - stars, galaxies, universes. Keep your eyes open with strangers. Don’t believe their stories, especially the Sun; don’t put your finger in anyone’s mouth. How many times has this couch potato seal laid down at your feet, demanding to scratch your scruff. You fed the animal from your hands. I studied habits. But if you gape, your eyeball will end up on the tip of his nose. This is how they pay for their earnestness. And, remembering this, you entrench yourself in your own fear. The eyelids are cemented. The steel curtain fell before the flames ate out the yolks of your alarmed eyes. It seems like you're one of those people who lets his tail fly, and when it comes to a fight, he runs into the bushes. The stranger seems to notice your timidity - a slight grin slides across your white, albino-like face. And this good nature knocks the rug out from under your sanity. You are shivering - horror has blown the heated air from your home along with your will and prudence. In a panic, jumping over the steps, you run to the basement, where you leaf through the yellowed file of that distant summer, when your mother, sitting at the edge of the sea, cut the golden fleece from your burnt shoulders. You want to know how to tame the inferno. You are waiting for words - as reliable as gold reserves - to buy the monster's favor, to put the prominence on a leash. But the past sewed up my mouth with a large stitch. And you have no one else to ask for advice. And then you kick yourself out of the shelter where you were hoping to sit out. Another effort, and your mussels show their nose, still fearing the diver’s crooked knife. But the swimmer is kind. The look of his gentle eyes does not scorch. And you feel how your bitter childish tears are drying up. And when you unbutton your soul, you open up like a spring coat - the wheel of the lens, which jumped off the rails and rumbled along the paving stones of your eyelashes, settles into its usual track... So what? Instead of light - you no longer feel pain or stinging in your eyes - a young woman with the bony shoulders of a tomboy and the sly squint of watery old woman eyes smiles broadly at you.
- Form a column of three! - the angel’s wings are neatly laid behind his back, like the Volga ribbon dove.
Boys and girls pour out onto the serpentine road. The column shudders and slowly crawls up the mountain, like a snake that has been poked with a stick.

Smoky eye makeup is mesmerizing. It creates some kind of aura of mystery around a woman, and with its help it is easy to win male attention. How to do smoky makeup correctly, and what mistakes should you watch out for?

Eye makeup - step by step instructions

• Step 3. You can finish with the shadows in the previous step, but if you want the makeup to be more expressive, once again line the upper eyelid and outer corners of the eyes with black shadows, and this time shade them less carefully so that a fairly clear outline remains. You can also line the inside of the lower eyelid with a black contour pencil - this creates the impression of a deeper look, but this recommendation only works if the woman has naturally large eyes: small eyes will appear even smaller due to such a contour.
• Step 4: Color your eyelashes. The classic version uses black mascara, but you can achieve an interesting and non-standard result by using mascara of different colors. For example, lilac mascara will perfectly highlight green eyes, brown mascara will highlight blue eyes, and brown eyes combine very effectively with sapphire-colored mascara.

Additional Tips

To make your smoky eye look even more impressive, use false eyelashes . You need to take care of this in advance - before you start creating makeup.

At the first stage, instead of black eyeshadow, you can use dark gray or light gray (as well as various shades of brown and blue), but shaded black eyeshadow, when used correctly, gives the most effective and elegant result.

Common mistakes and how to avoid them

• Raccoon eyes

One of the common mistakes that young girls most often make is to apply a thick layer of black eyeshadow on the upper and lower eyelids and call it smoky eye makeup. In fact, the face begins to resemble the muzzle of a raccoon (or a panda - this does not change the essence of the matter), and our smaller brothers with such circles around their eyes look very cute, then a person... not very, in a word. To get real smoky makeup instead of creepy circles, the shadows need to be applied sparingly and very carefully shaded.

• Too much glitter

In general, shiny shadows look very impressive, they help make the eyes brighter and the entire makeup looks fresh, but when creating smoky makeup, it is better to avoid them. Smoky makeup in itself is very impressive, and shadows with shimmer can make it simply pretentious and tasteless. It is allowed to apply a little shiny shadow to the skin at the inner corners of the eyes, and draw a thin contour with shadows along the lower eyelid.

• Don't apply colored eyeshadow too high

It is worth applying eye shadow of any color, except neutral ones (beige, ivory or pale pink) to the entire upper eyelid, up to the eyebrows, and beautiful makeup
you can forget. Colored shadows (especially very dark tones) can be applied only a couple of millimeters above the crease of the eyelid. In various fashion magazines you can sometimes see that not all makeup artists adhere to this rule, but what looks great on glossy pages is not always acceptable not only in everyday life, but even in nightclubs. When doing smoky makeup, remember the rule: less is more. When you have a makeup brush in your hands, it's always better to apply a little less makeup rather than more. If you think that you have applied the shadows too high, apply a little matte shadow on top of them, the color of which is as close as possible to the color of your skin.

• Too much shadow on the lower eyelid

This is a fairly common mistake. Sometimes it seems that the lower eyelids are made up even more than the upper ones - fortunately, you rarely see this. It’s easy to avoid this mistake - you just need to remember that the width of the area of ​​skin under the eyes on which the shadows are applied should not be noticeably greater than the length of the lower eyelashes. Use high-quality thin brushes to make applying eyeshadow easier.

• Hard lines

They should be avoided when creating any makeup, but this applies especially to smoky eye makeup. In combination with carefully shaded shadows, a hard contour creates the impression of disharmony and can destroy the created image.

Are diamonds a girl's best friend? But no: the best friends are the right shadows. Of course, it’s good when a stone of several carats glitters on your finger, but it is unlikely to attract the attention of the opposite sex - except perhaps the envious glances of other young ladies.

But beautiful eyes can bewitch any man. But not all representatives of the fair sex naturally have large, expressive eyes! This is where eye shadow comes to the rescue.

Properly selected shadows can work wonders! If you apply them correctly, you can enlarge eyes that are too small, reduce or, conversely, expand the distance between them, raise drooping corners, lengthen the shape of the eyes, add depth to the look, and generally radically change your appearance!

When choosing shadows, first of all you need to take into account that they can be dry and liquid. Which type to choose is a matter of taste. Dry eyeshadows will last longer because they usually have a longer shelf life.

In addition, they can be used to draw lines along the contour of the eyes, which is very convenient if you do not like to use pencil and eyeliner. But these shadows dry out the skin of the eyelids, so before applying them, you should use a makeup base. But similar liquid cosmetics contain nutritional and moisturizing additives, vitamins and oils, and therefore nourish and moisturize the delicate skin of the eyelids.

But they have a significant drawback: they tend to “roll”, they are extremely difficult to apply and shade evenly, they cannot be used to paint over the crease of the eyelid - otherwise, instead of a mysterious look, you will get a terrible lump.

Alas, nothing is perfect. Another variety is compact shadows that resemble powder in appearance. When applying them, the applicator should be slightly damp, otherwise the shadows will scatter all over the face.

What shadows suit your eye color?

The key to success is to choose the appropriate color. White eyeshadow mutes bright tones and gives clarity to the look, but too much white will make your makeup appear artificial. Black shadows suppress bright colors, the look becomes expressive, and the relief of the part of the eyelid on which the shadows are applied decreases. At the same time, too much black shadow makes you look old.

Gray color gives a velvety look, but an elderly face may look tired. A win-win option is brown shadows, which make the look expressive and deep. Pink color is also good, adding shine, but still it is preferable for girls.

Blue is too cold a color, so makeup artists recommend using blue shadows together with green, gray or purple. Green shadows, which dull the brightness of the look and give the face an unhealthy look, should be combined with brown, blue or pink.

As for the combination with eye color, cold shades are more suitable for brown-eyed seductresses - plum, gray, violet, lilac; for blue-eyed beauties - brown, beige, pearlescent, light lilac and violet shadows, and for owners of green eyes - dark purple, copper and plum.

How to choose shadows to match your hair color

But it’s not enough to take eye color into account; hair and skin color also play an important role. So, for example, black or dark brown shadows are more suitable for dark brown-haired women, and if the skin is light, then the shadows should be chosen to match the color of the eyes. This rule also applies to light-skinned brunettes with light eyes.

If your skin is dark, then the best choice for vamp women is green shadows. For blondes with fair skin and blue eyes, blue and gray shadows are preferred. Red-haired people will undoubtedly look good in green and brown shades.

In addition to color, it is necessary to take into account that shadows can be matte or pearlescent. Of course, with matte shadows there is less hassle: they are easier to apply and shade, they emphasize the expressiveness of the eyes and attract attention. But if you need to achieve the effect of an open, radiant look, then you can’t do without pearlescent shadows.

Matte shadows can be applied to the entire moving eyelid, but pearlescent ones can only be applied to the middle. The insidiousness of pearlescent shadows lies in the fact that if you overdo it, they will emphasize all the existing wrinkles.

We must not forget about the shape of the eyes and the individual anatomical features of the face. If the eyes are too small or sunken, the eyelashes are short, and there are dark circles or bags under the eyes, then dark eye shadow is not suitable as it will give a tired look. With their help, you can only lengthen the shape of the eyes, emphasize and highlight them, and therefore should be applied to the outer corners of the eyes. But shadows of light shades will make the look radiant and open, refreshing the face.

You should not apply the entire available palette of shadows to your eyelids - two or three shades of the same color range are enough. The lightest shadows are applied in the corners of the eyes and under the eyebrows, the brightest ones in the center of the eyelids, and the darkest ones on the outer corners of the eyes.

Don't forget these simple rules, and men will be captivated by the beauty of your eyes!
Material taken from woman.mobus.com

When a man wants a woman, she subconsciously feels it. But sometimes, in order to be convinced of her feelings, she needs confirmation, an objective look from the outside. There are certain signs that reveal a man’s desires and thoughts, even if he desperately tries to hide them. Particular attention should be paid to gaze, gestures, body language and unusual behavior.

Sight

Eyes are the mirror of a person's soul. Even if a person wants to hide his emotions, his gaze always gives him away. You just need to learn how to read eye expressions correctly. If a man wants a woman, he looks at her in a special way. Typically, a revealing glance lasts a fraction of a second, so an inattentive person may not notice it. But if you watch, or better yet, record a man on video, signs of lust will be visible:

Experiment. To confirm your feelings, you need to move a few tens of meters away from the man and observe (secretly) his behavior for 10-15 minutes. If he periodically glances in your direction, you can judge increased interest and a possible desire to get closer.

Body language and gestures

The human body can tell a lot. Posture, pose, gestures always mean something. The body gives vent to emotions through them. If a person tries to suppress his feelings, his blood pressure rises. Scientists use this fact for lie detector testing. But how do you understand that a man wants you? Look out for the following signs:

Your feet will tell the whole truth. For some women, confirming a man's desire is not enough. They want to know how serious and direct his intentions are. Feet speak most reliably about honesty. If a man has nothing to hide, then his feet will be brought together and his toes will be pointed in your direction.

Behavior

A man who is burning with desire behaves differently than others. Hormones are boiling in his blood, he constantly thinks about how to get what he wants. These can be either direct actions of conquest or diligent efforts to hide their intentions. But nothing will escape an attentive person. So, how to understand that a guy wants you:

Author's advice. It is important to understand that each sign individually does not mean anything. For example, a dreamy look may indicate that a man is simply drunk. Tapping your fingers and shifting from foot to foot can indicate a rush, a desire to go to the toilet.

In order to form an objective opinion about a man’s thoughts and intentions, each individual sign must be perceived as a piece of a puzzle. If a woman is truly desired, they will come together.

What's next?

Well, now you have made certain conclusions about the desires of a man. The question arises, what to do next with this? You can’t come up and say directly that it has been revealed and you know everything. No, the girl should act differently. If she is interested in a guy and she also wants to have a relationship with him, she needs to demonstrate her readiness:

1. When the guy looks at you again, look him straight in the eyes and smile. Your openness will help him relax.
2. Wear more modest outfits. Let one thing be open - neckline, legs or thighs. Firstly, a man should not be oversatiated, and secondly, when you are in a revealing outfit, it is more difficult for him to think and act.
3. Ask for advice or ask for help. A proven way to get to know each other better.
4. Be simple and open. There is no need to pretend to be impregnable and touchy. In this case, the man will burn out faster than decide to approach and admit his intentions.

In conclusion, it should be recalled that being mysterious and intriguing is a woman’s prerogative. The stronger sex works differently. If a man really wants something (especially a woman), he will do everything to get it. Even the most modest guy becomes persistent, purposeful and decisive. Therefore, a woman just needs to wait and see how he shows himself.

Olga, Moscow