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Sep 2014
He asked me why
I never looked him in the eyes
And I looked at the ceiling
and said i didn't know
He once asked me
what color his eyes were
And for the life of me
I wanted to forget
that his eyes were the color
of the purest blue ocean
just before a storm and scattered
with crystal shards like sea shells
Because the second I looked
up at him
The air was stolen
right out of my chest cavity
His eyes engulfed my soul and drowned it out
until I forgot where I was
His eyes could melt fire and freeze ice but he doesn't have
a destructive bone in his body
His eyes are the sky
right before dawn
a blue so electric
it sends shivers down my spine
So wasted with wonder
and dappled with specks of sarcasm
I've been told drowning
Is the most tragic way to die
Though maybe it's where you drown that makes it a tragedy
because I think
drowning in his eyes
would be the most
beautiful death
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