In those blue eyes. You are the sea of warmth and an awakening. You are the gentle wash of sweet relief when you reach my skin. You are the birth of something bright, of something new. You, my love, are blue.
In those green eyes. You were the supple strength in the live oaks of my youth. Your presence was home – it followed your every smile and breath. You were wild in your own deep soul – as a secret only you and I could see. You, my heart, were green.
In those brown eyes. You are built like no other, in the forges of war, escape, and triumph. You crossed the oceans of chaos to craft a world of your own. You are finding softness in a life of iron. You, my ancestor, are brown.
In those golden eyes. You are life: of laughter and joy. You create and grow everything you touch, and I am your greatest artwork. You are finding stillness in the tempestuous winds. You, my soul, are golden.
I long to peer through the gateway of your eyes, but instead I am faced with a mirror of myself. And instead, I find a refraction of you. And here, I dutifully arrange those fragments of light into an iridescent dream of who I might be.
Penelope J Oak 