Eyes Like The Brazilian Flag (Re-Post)
EYES LIKE THE BRAZILIAN FLAG
You love her eyes. You love all of her, of course, even her most annoying traits-like biting her nails or her ridiculous need to carry a back-pack absolutely everywhere she goes-but you’re a real sucker for those eyes.
They’re green. Most of the time, anyway. Because if you pay real close attention, when you look in her eyes, you can see almost every color in the world.
Like when she’s happy, and her smile will light up her whole face, and her eyes will be the most amazing swirl of blue, yellow and green, like the Brazilian flag.
Or when she’s angry-and boy, does she get angry-and her eyes go so dark they’re almost brown, like molten chocolate.
And when she’s sad... they’re so shockingly blue, and it’s both breath-taking and heart-breaking, because while they’re so very beautiful, there’s nothing you hate more than to see her cry.
They change color so often and in so many ways that it’s impossible to keep track of all of them, except if you’re so in love with her (and her eyes) that you’ve studied, learned and memorized all there is to know about her (and her eyes).
One of your favorite times by far is when you make love to-no, with her. Desire turns her eyes green-but not the usual smoky green from every morning, when she smiles at you over a cup of coffee.
No. When you make love, and her eyes are focused on you, they’re always a deep, rich forest green that sends shivers down your spine and urges you to move faster, get there faster, and in that brief moment when she reaches Heaven you can see, between her half-closed eyelids, an explosion of color.
Her lashes are long and curly, like a model’s, and they tickle you when you kiss.
When she’s asleep they cast shadows on her face, and you like to wake up before she does, just so that you can watch as her eyes flutter open and look around for you, still heavy with sleep.
This is your favorite time of day.
You love her eyes. Whether they be blue or brown, or the color of the Brazilian flag.
But you love them best as they are now, mossy green and swimming with tears, like morning dew on the grass.
She’s looking down at you as you kneel on the ground, her eyes wide and impossibly green, and fastened on the ring in your hand.
She’s not saying anything but she doesn’t need to, because you love and know her eyes so well, that you can read the “Yes!” in them before she voices it, hurling herself in your arms.
The End
You love her eyes. You love all of her, of course, even her most annoying traits-like biting her nails or her ridiculous need to carry a back-pack absolutely everywhere she goes-but you’re a real sucker for those eyes.
They’re green. Most of the time, anyway. Because if you pay real close attention, when you look in her eyes, you can see almost every color in the world.
Like when she’s happy, and her smile will light up her whole face, and her eyes will be the most amazing swirl of blue, yellow and green, like the Brazilian flag.
Or when she’s angry-and boy, does she get angry-and her eyes go so dark they’re almost brown, like molten chocolate.
And when she’s sad... they’re so shockingly blue, and it’s both breath-taking and heart-breaking, because while they’re so very beautiful, there’s nothing you hate more than to see her cry.
They change color so often and in so many ways that it’s impossible to keep track of all of them, except if you’re so in love with her (and her eyes) that you’ve studied, learned and memorized all there is to know about her (and her eyes).
One of your favorite times by far is when you make love to-no, with her. Desire turns her eyes green-but not the usual smoky green from every morning, when she smiles at you over a cup of coffee.
No. When you make love, and her eyes are focused on you, they’re always a deep, rich forest green that sends shivers down your spine and urges you to move faster, get there faster, and in that brief moment when she reaches Heaven you can see, between her half-closed eyelids, an explosion of color.
Her lashes are long and curly, like a model’s, and they tickle you when you kiss.
When she’s asleep they cast shadows on her face, and you like to wake up before she does, just so that you can watch as her eyes flutter open and look around for you, still heavy with sleep.
This is your favorite time of day.
You love her eyes. Whether they be blue or brown, or the color of the Brazilian flag.
But you love them best as they are now, mossy green and swimming with tears, like morning dew on the grass.
She’s looking down at you as you kneel on the ground, her eyes wide and impossibly green, and fastened on the ring in your hand.
She’s not saying anything but she doesn’t need to, because you love and know her eyes so well, that you can read the “Yes!” in them before she voices it, hurling herself in your arms.
The End