You tell me I’m beautiful My eyes, the most, you say “So blue!” Bewitched, You look away But my eyes Are not so blue As the buckets of black At the centre The colour would be nothing Without It’s through those holes You enter Their pull is hard Hard to beat Impossible Quite relentless Their depth absorbs most things Stars and matter Trivia; Endless Without the buckets of black To suck you in through my eyes The blue would pale To nothing Nothing to be admired
Words of the Air 