Monday, October 21, 2024

with apologies to baudelaire 2015

  

are my eyes blue

as she thinks

or gray or green or somewhere in between

fogged over as if with dream

as I stare into hers

that are so brown or black

I see my reflection there

we living our lives with overcast skies

 always with the promise of rain

 and perhaps pain

rain dripping down her cheeks

 blurring her vision

 my eyes are as blue as my mood

when I wear blue

Green when my shirt is green

a camouflage as I ache to hide with

 or as gray as the sky

or in this season the sullen landscape

 of falling leaves none nearly

as brown as her eyes

 nor as deep

 nor as full of promise

drawing me in

my blue green gray eyes

 searching out the depths of hers

 to dig up what treasure

 I might find there

are my eyes blue or green or gray or something in between?


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