She asked me how it feels to have pretty eyes

An Angel asked me…how does it feel to have pretty eyes…

And I immediately deflected, monologuing instead about how much I appreciated and loved dark eyes.

How a flower once whispered in my ear that dark eyes looked like infinite pools at night—

that you could swim deep within their waters and even drown, if you weren’t careful.

I couldn’t answer without a prologue.

But given space and time, I can now see:

Sitting within my power does not negate the beauty in others.

How does it feel to have pretty eyes?

It was form over function—

I couldn’t see and used glasses most of my life.

But I used those glasses to temper their power.

a thin sheet of cellophane and metal separating between me and those who wanted to cliff jump without testing the depth.

My mother’s eyes are sky blue.

My father’s, rusted brown.

My eyes played the greenery center stage.

give the tree a line!

The hazel was the result of their passions

a door knob turning but for a door that was already open.

an inevitability of power.

But again—

how does it feel to have pretty eyes?

It feels like I have to be careful.

Because attention can turn into uncommunicated expectation.

I avert my gaze to stop unskilled swimmers

from diving into waters—

despite all the cautionary tales.

Siren songs

How does it feel to have pretty eyes…?

Under the best circumstances,

I get to catch the corner of everything I want.

It’s a homing missile,

a targeted program with me at the helm—

weighing the scales of war between want and need.

To catch the eyes of my friends & lovers

and hold telepathic conversations

with a speckle of brown in the green fields of my eyes—

is a pleasure deeply known to just me.

My favorite color is green right after it rains.

I see that in me.

I see my favorite things in myself.

And that’s what it feels like to have pretty eyes.

writers notes:

to be asked about my own beauty I felt many times to deflect and make conversation of anything but, I’ve read legends where admitting such a thing would end up cursing the person.

but there’s great power in sitting and looking at yourself and liking yourself.

and to love oneself is in my opinion one of the most radical things a person can do.