His eyes are blue
Not the kind writers endlessly romanticize in novels
“Like the sea, the waves, the ocean.”
They go on and on, I bet some of them have never even seen the ocean which seems, I know, irrational..but who knows.
All I know is his eyes are blue
With hints of green around the pupil
And they’re looking back at me
And I can tell he’s smiling because the ends of his eyes curl up slightly
And I can tell he’s about to kiss me because since the moment I met him he has been kissing me and he can’t stop and I don’t ever want him to.
His eyes are blue
And before I met him my favorite color was orange, you know like the deep orange of a sunset of some fancy shit like that.
But now blues my favorite color, I haven’t told him that’s the reason why, but I hope it makes him blush.
His eyes are blue and if I were to walk into any room, walk down any street, his blue eyes would be the first eyes Id meet
And I’m not too fond of eye contact, I don’t like it, even when talking to other people I tend to look at the ground, the sky, but god, I could stare into his eyes until mine dried up and hollowed out. But we’d laugh before that, the real kind of laughter where your whole mouth opens and your eye lids squeeze tight.
His eyes are blue, and I know we both don’t want to have kids but my eyes are this light brown, this plain average and sometimes I can’t help but fantasize about our child and what color her/his eyes would be.
His eyes are blue,
And since I met him,
I can’t take my eyes
Off his.
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