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 Aug 2014 Lucas Nichols
abysmal
I don't consider various eye colors "beautiful" nor "enchanting".
In all honesty; I've never really understood the incorrigible obsession with iris pigmentation that is genetically inherited and beyond the control of the possessor of the same pair of eyes you deem "beautiful".

But in contradiction to the callous statement I've opened with;
I've found a pair of eyes that I can unhesitantly call beautiful.

It should be noted that I only fell in love with the eyes after I'd seen them roll back with pleasure
(a memory that still makes me shiver)

And from that night on; I started to notice every single beautiful thing the eyes did.

The way they lit up with frenzied excitement,
The way they burned with raging desire,
The way they filled up with salty achromatic tears.

I've loved the eyes for as long as I can remember.

But I don't consider myself lucky just because those same eyes look at me lustfully midweek; but because in a seemingly redundant life, those eyes became something to look forward to seeing; or feeling pierce through your skin on a warm Saturday night
She was a dream,
As lucid as the sea,
And we sat in the sand
And laughed on the wind.

And her eyes,
A serene lagoon of green.

And a kiss,
Salty like the sea ****,
That washed up on the shore,
And danced under the waves.

And she was a dream?
That girl and me,
And her green eyes by the sea.

— The End —