They were eyes that had lived.
Not like those other blue eyes
that still held an innocence
from which a human only heals
with the passage of time and the passing of years.
No.
His eyes told thousands of stories:
of dreams and glories,
of nights stretching into the thousandth of dawns,
dreaming while awake.
His eyes, as blue as the ocean,
as sweet as honey,
as unique and infinite as the sky,
became all the reasons for my sleepless nights.
Add comment
Comments