Poem #9

Her eyes are the ocean.

Not the deep blue of the darkest sea.

No, she’s that perfect part of the water,

That shines from the sun’s touch.

With ripples you can see through,

Clear and cool in their transparency.

I want to swim in her perfect color,

And dip my head into her cool stream.

Open my mouth to drink her in,

And taste her deceptively calm drops.

For I feel dehydrated without her gaze.

Until I remember that nothing is perfect,

And even the clearest waters hold danger.

But I still dive in, forgetting too soon,

That these ocean eyes will drown me.