glass slipper | poetry

iris

my breath hitched every time I witnessed the murmured glory of your eyes 

whenever you blinked, my heart would sigh from withdrawal, for the pause seemed eternal

every time you cried, I couldn't help but feel triumphant

not out of spite, but because all it did was prove my point;

your eyes contained so much liquid allure

that every once in a while, it couldn't help but spill over

in the form of small, glass drops that others would describe as tears

theirs might have been salty, but yours were as pure as the waters of the heavens

and in these waters, I swam for hours, marvelling at the rich colours that gleamed around me

upon reaching your pupil, I stood there

captivated, enthralled, at the brink of this inky abyss

where storms of desolation and misery swirled

unseen to the world, for the glow of your iris concealed it all

for, to shroud despair, one must first create a mask of the complete opposite