The lids are soft and wrinkled at the end, opens like the blossom of rose petals, soft touch yet, much softer inside.

They say the eyes are the windows to your soul, and if this divinity is just a window, I cannot dare to imagine, as to what lies enclosed on the other side.

The lashes long and black, safeguards the angelic beauty of a pearl, the life of a dozen glittering stars all bound in a crystal, round,

Emotions are conversed better than words, through these bewitching marbles like spheres, providing in silence the loudest of sound.

Like a drop of coffee in a pool of milk, white, perfect and round, twinkles as he smiles, my reflection I can see, glassy.

A touch of bronze, with a hint of copper, a dash of rust and a drop of mahogany, combines together to form a hazel like color, so glossy

Stripes of which, end in the tiny black dot of an apple, the core of it all, into which I could be lost in for time eternal.

Those round drops of hazel entwined with russet, emerge a chocolate like color, I cannot distinguish, but just like the latter pours pure joy into my veins, internal.

How the human eye could be so perfect I cannot fathom, is it just me or is it because it is him, I realize I can be biased, I feel me frown.

But I have fallen in love over and over, and tumbled into oblivion, through those vortexes of brown.

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