Storm Blues

Her eyes were touched by the storm clouds,

A brief gust before returning to the calm sea,

The love in her eyes was fathoms deep,

They were a thousand hues of blue, so pretty was she.

Her eyes were fire in water, well, if you could imagine,

Passion in ice? Faith and promise?

Perhaps they spoke a thousand more things,

With a look, her eyes were butterfly wings, an obsession of mine.

If it wasn't just the eyes, her smeared mascara lines,

Blue of the stormy skies, waiting to pour themselves,

Almost sickeningly blue, you could look into them all day,

A color should have been named after it, what d'ya say?

Not only blue means the glacier's hue,

Consider hers, even the hottest fires burnt blue,

All the myriad shades forming a whirl of apprehension,

How could one be so beautiful? No fucking clue.