I know what eyes are made of. They’re made of the ocean, of caramel, of December mornings, of drops of absinthe and splinters of amber. Eyes are made of honeycomb. Of steel. Of midnight and monsoon. Of smoking coal and dying embers. Of toffee, jujubes, and violet pastilles.
I know of eyes made from shards of the sky and stalks of willow. Butterscotch candy and peppermint leaves. Eyes made of fire, made of stone. I know eyes are made of old wine bottles. And marbles. They’re made of soap bubbles and muddy puddles, cognac swirls and Blue Curaçao.
I have seen eyes the color of money, with hues of ache and longing, schisms of doubt and hope, the radiance of youth and the grey of age. I know eyes composed in the deep grey of silences, the dark black of unknowing, in azures of complacency, and whorls of dark chocolate.
I met a woman with eyes the colour of warm caramel taffy. Each time she blinked I beckoned to taste her. I have forgotten what it is to kiss.
I have seen the eyes of a woman undone. They are molten irises.
She has left her scent in my hair.
7 Comments Add yours
I thoroughly love this. The beautiful words and the juxtaposition of irises and nebulas. Perfect.
Passionate. I really enjoy the evocative imagery. Eyes are the breath in our words, the voice behind our lips. They are everything or nothing. Always remember eyes when writing, fill them with a soul, let the reader drink them in. Great post!
Reblogged this on aourbind.
Pure poetry. I’m going to spend today evening gazing into my lover’s eyes, in wonder.
Reblogged this on syndax vuzz.