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Writer's picturegiaant

my eyes

a couple notes on the color blue.

i found out today that your eyes are blue. i had thought for the longest time that they were brown. naturally, i had to make it into an aesthetic metaphor about how well we could possibly know each other. i will admit i do not know you very well. i don't know the nuances of you.


and yet, that doesn't stop us from making eventual plans, and talking about the future casually. you tell me about places you want to take me, movies we should watch, places we should eat. you tell me stories about history, from history, and of history. you speak with wonder and awe about the world around us, childlike in your optimism, however nihilistic in view.


the color blue has never been more happy than in the dull icy blue of your eyes. your eyes are more grey than island wave but behind them shine enough life to make up for their muted tones, as well as the bitterness in my coffee brown ones. you pick me up, in more ways than one.


your goofiness lifts my mood, as you physically pick me up and spin me around and i laugh at the sheer cinematics of it all. you show up to get me from the station and we walk into the night, blue, and dark, and dull. brightened by your laughter, the night is no longer ominous. you tell me the eyes are the window to the soul, and you tell me of the vastness behind mine. i tell you of the impossible happiness dull blue can holds.

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