he says "i can see
the love in your eyes,"
but can't imagine the depth
of the forest behind their green.
empathy flits behind trees and
fairies ring invisible bells in the dense fog,
trying to lure my love out
underneath the pleiades.
clear skies are irony and
green eyes are forestry
with swampy tendrils
like serpents that can't be trusted
wrapping around your pinky finger
where a promise of lust is.
but brown eyes breed bliss.
familiar like melted chocolate ice cream
dripping onto my tongue,
with those popsicle sticks that
give me my best jokes.
the ones that show the laugh lines
that crinkle his paper flesh
like gift wrap on christmas.
his smile is my favorite present.