I’ve always romanticized
Blue eyes,
Each one different:
Pools of ice streaked
With sky and the sea
Dotted in each
Iris.
But your eyes,
They were brown.
Muddy with silken
Strands of gold
Fanning out from
Black pupils,
Each a glassy window
Into a soul
So full of something
Unknown.
I saw flowers in your
Chest
And roses in your lungs.
Each silence was
Eloquent when you
Were in the room,
A million puzzle piece thoughts
That you never said
But I felt them
Nonetheless.
You were full of black
Cracks that leaked
A light I couldn’t
Understand,
Your mystery a sweet
Symphony to my ears;
I grow so tired
Of open books
And yellowed pages.
It was a second,
A smile on your dry lips,
And suddenly,
The color of the earth
Seemed so much
More beautiful.
