From Those Nights

•brown; eyes•

Carried away by words on waves,
sashed ashore on a beach of dreams,
I dream
To find a pair of eyes with that hue of jade
or cerulean
or hazel.

Sometimes,
I glide my fingers through the sand,
wondering about the sensation 
of  running my fingers
In tufts of sunlit, golden tresses.
Perhaps a nightly raven
in the depths of the moonlit waters.

But I am of no worth
weighed against their resplendence.
My hair, my eyes —
A dull
lifeless
brown.

The blandness through which love fails to glow,
and among millions in masses fails to show,
and in their lacklustreness elation dissipates,
among murky pools, echoes abate.

I'm more than what is apparent skin deep,
But alas for the world works enchantment on vision.
And in its illusions the mind sleeps.

I faced the mirror
Glanced once more.
Somehow, through mystique
as if fate would play kind,
and reform what was visible
into the vastness of my mind.

But you were stood by my side,
And though you held the hues I did,
I wondered how you carried the splendour of kings,
and filled sepias
with vibrance.
Your worth lies in gold and gems,
but mine in the dust.

Brown—
nothing like crisp spring leaves
or midsummer skies,
your eyes were like
warm explosions like a winter morning's coffee
that soaked through my frigidity.

Like fresh earth after spring rain
under cracks of oak wood on my numb fingertips,
you were the petrichor after storms.
glowing amber under the moonlight,
your eyes have lured me ashore to you

The hazy swirls in your eyes are
golden keys under whose gaze
I unraveled the stories of my scars.

And your hands brushed off the salt on my skin that
the storms in the seas left on me.

Somewhere in it all
an epiphany dawned;
the colours I was in love with,
would never make me feel as loved as the colour of you.

.