her eyes
were the same color
as a channel with no signal
no
her eyes
were not the vivid cerulean
of
a modern television
they were
the swarm of flies
with the static hiss
pouring out of them
in a way
that defies logic
defines tragic
implies longing
portrays passion
gone
astray

it wasn’t
love at first sight
more
lust at first light
more need
at first inkling
of the secrets
hidden within
of wanting
to undress her slowly
carefully unwrap her
layer by layer
until all was exposed
a feast
a buffet
for the mind
body
and
soul

it was her eyes
the color of fading dream
as wakefulness
strips it
from memory