I used a digital color meter on a picture I had of your face to try to find the hex color of your eyes; mainly because I wanted to see if I was correct in thinking the color of
hers matched yours. I spent countless seconds brooding over every pixel, scrolling through dots to find the closest sign of you.
Turns out, your eyes are more of a light grey than blue, somewhere around #94C2D2. Hers are #514C3E, a much darker grey. Fuck, now I don’t even wanna look at her.
In truth, she wasn’t a lot like you, not like the last one was. But her eyes reminded me of yours, similarly shaped, similarly colored; and so I couldn’t help myself.
And yet, technology doesn’t lie, emotions do; her eyes aren’t yours. But maybe I can forget this whole ordeal and just keep making eye contact when she says something stupid.
Perhaps my constant comparison has dulled my memory of your face.
But I find it hard to believe that after a million looks I don’t have your eye color clearly engraved in my head. I just can’t use a digital color meter on a memory.
Pictures are fine but they don’t capture the fine details of a face. They capture the moment and essence, but the color is washed away.
It’s hard to account for things like lighting and camera quality, making any picture I took useless.
And still I have your eyes, deep in my head, lodged in my skull, stuck.
But how could I not? Remember that time we did acid in South Hall? I took a sugar cube that made the walls twist like trick mirrors at a carnival.
We were looking out your window at the sparkling car lights when I suddenly began to cry because I did not want to die.
You held me in your arms and told me it would be okay, grabbing me close to your chest, near to your heart.
My eyes were closed and I could see stars and galaxies rushing by my sight, lines of colors and waves of light dancing around my vision and I felt amazing.
The warmth of your arms fueled the kaleidoscope occurring in my head, giving the hallucinations feelings in their motion.
And suddenly I felt at peace; I can’t quite describe the effect you had on me and to be honest it ight have been the drugs but death no longer scared me. Because I had you.
I would die, the electricity pulsating through my brain would fizzle out and my memories and self would be nothing, not even dust.
All of me left would be memories which can’t be properly or publicly viewed and maybe items related to me but which held none of me and so I would be gone, physically, poetically, all of it,
dead. But for the meantime, there were your loving arms; and when I finally lured myself out of my apparitions and looked up, there were your eyes.
Due to the LSD, your pupils were gigantic, covering a large portion of your iris. I could see them growing and shrinking as they adjusted to my own eyes, inches in front of yours.
I stared at the movement in your iris, watched as the specks of different colors spun around and around, bits of sea and space floating within you.
It’s hard to describe what I saw, I don’t want to paint a wrong picture.
Your eyes weren’t crashing ocean waves or stormy clouds, they weren’t electricity, water, ice, or any other cliché reading of your particular ocular hue.
No, close up, your eyes were sapphire spider webs; your eyes were the terrains of Neptune, with brave spacemen dressed in platinum charging up and down your rocky hills.
Your eyes were galaxies exploding into interweaving fibers swimming towards the center of your pupil, shining labradorite crypts lining a chalcedony collarette.
I want to envelop myself in blue. A bathtub will do me well.
I take two blue lightbulbs and a 15-foot strip of blue led lights to replace the ugly white light in the bathroom with my royal dreams.
I grab a box of cornflowers arranged especially for this occasion, trim the stem and toss the bud into the ascending waters.
I submerge myself in the tub, let my back feel the smooth ceramic bottom and my hair begin to float up, up, up; feel every single molecule of oxygen be absorbed by my lungs,
my lungs slowly beginning to plead as air grows scarce, a choking growl before the loss of hope of breath,
of life; open my eyes and see the rays of blue infiltrate the blurry water in front of me, the edges of my eyes fading to black the longer I stay under. She’s gone. She left you.
And you can’t forget her eyes.
Blow out the remaining air burning in my chest, watch as the bubbles rise to the surface, sticking to the glassy ceiling above me, which grows dimmer, unclear, but still that deep cobalt.
Keep it within you. Its missing texture; I raise my hand and run it through the ocean above me, creating ripples and currents, tiny spheres accumulating around the lean indigo petals above me.
I open my eyes, try to emulate her laugh in my head; I open my eyes and see hers in the ultramarine luminance, drowning my sorrow in radiance……Tus ojos azules,
brillando como plumas de Colibri volando alrededor de arboles celestes de zarzamoras…. no se te olvide respirar….
Fuck, I’m back to cliché, I can’t get it quite right, I can’t describe what I want correctly, the words aren’t there,
I have to use a different language to even get close to the feeling I want to diffuse to you but I’m sure the meanings lost on most anyway. Fuck fuck fuck.
How do I make you see what I see, feel what I feel, make my words smooth the bridge of understanding for once?
Whatever, I still dream about them, I still see them when I blink; I still see when sunlight fills my eyes and for a second as my eyes adjusts I see the perfect shade of blue,
the shade of you that I remember the most. It’s the shade I miss the most.
So, when the color meter revealed that wicked truth, shattered that hopeful misconception, what am I to do but delete that file, double click and bin that bitch.
Because I feel like you forget me more and more while your blue continues to seep within me.